


Sweat

by spandwiches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Eye Sex, Fear of Flying, Flight Attendant Castiel (Supernatural), Fluff, Hand Jobs, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester Wedding, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Panic Attacks, Sappy, Self-Doubt, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Shotgun Wedding, Strip Tease, Sweat, copious amounts of sickening sweetness, like super-duper light angst, public bathroom sex, wildlife warden!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 02:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 51,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spandwiches/pseuds/spandwiches
Summary: Dean doesn’t like flying, okay? It’s just not natural. But sometimes a man’s gotta do, what a man’s gotta do. So he powers through the fear and gets on the flight to California, only to find that flying isn’t nearly so bad when there is someone holding yourcockhand.Flying is in Castiel's genes so he takes his work seriously, and aims to provide excellent service to every passenger. So if one particularly attractive passenger happens to require a little more attention than usual, he is all too happy to provide.Snakebite, sabotage, pteromerhanophobia, FAA rule breaking, mile-high clubbing, a Winchester wedding (or two), first dances, a British dog sitter, potential disciplinary action, and a whole lot of sweat.





	1. Wednesday, 8:00 P.M. (CST)

**Author's Note:**

> I dreamed up this fic three years ago, and then got distracted, and life happened, and stuff, and I basically decided I couldn't write "long" stories. It was more or less abandoned at twenty-five thousand words. But there were bits of it that still called to me, my vision of this incarnation of Dean and Cas was still so vivid, and the story seed I'd planted back in 2016 had set down roots. Then this summer GISH happened and I bonded with my fabulous co-captain, who convinced me not to give up on it (or anything else, for that matter!). So here we are, three years on, and I am so ready to let this thing fly away (Dean is NOT on board, thank you very much. Castiel, on the other hand, would like you to know that your seat can be used as a floatation device).
> 
> A huge thank you goes to my most wonderful cheerleader and provider of motivational Jensen Ackles imagery, [TinaTambourina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BourbonSunset_MidnightWhiskey/): not only did she listen to me complain when I couldn't get Cas and Dean both to climax without them getting distracted, but she proofread the entire text for the inevitable Britishisms (Crowley's got to stay).
> 
> Last, but absolutely never least, thank you, _thank you_ , **thank you** to [LanaSerra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanaSerra/), because without her, this would never have been finished. She is my muse, my AMAZING beta reader, my co-captain for GISH, my whip cracker, my sounding board, my good friend, and has done it all while writing her own phenomenal fic [Saying Yes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573246/chapters/41417435) (which you should absolutely, one hundred percent go and read right now. Seriously, read her's first and come back to this later).

Dean was not a religious man. Yet here he was, forehead resting on the steering wheel of his gleaming black ’67 Chevy Impala, praying audibly to any deity who would listen.

“Whoever, whatever is up there: please let her start. Please, please, please. Come on, Baby. Come on.”

The engine tried to turn over again but spluttered and died once more. It was no good. The car wasn’t going to start.

“Shit!”

Dean banged his fists hard against the steering wheel, mentally apologizing to the car and cursing his luck. He'd already done a preliminary check to try and work out what the problem was but had found nothing. There wasn’t a damn thing on that car he couldn’t fix, given time, but that was the exact problem, he didn’t have time to find what was broken, let alone repair it.

It was just past eight. If he could find another car in the next hour or so he’d still be able to make that time up over the drive. Sure, he’d lose a half hour of sleep here or there, maybe take a shorter lunch or something, but he'd still be in California by Friday afternoon. He’d promised Sam that he'd be at the rehearsal dinner and there was no way in hell he was letting the kid down. 

He started by calling his few friends in town, but immediately remembered Jo and Ellen were looking at real estate in Nebraska that week. He got through to Garth, who informed Dean that Bess, his German Shepherd, had been acting off for several days and he had to drive her to the vets’ over in Center first thing tomorrow morning. Benny had let Andrea know that he’d spend the weekend at hers and was already deep in Louisiana when Dean called him.

This is when living in the ass-crack middle of nowhere sucked. Because all three rental car locations within a fifty-mile radius were now closed for the night. The only one that was still open was over an hour away, in the wrong direction, and couldn't pick him up before ten. That would mean he'd be starting the drive to California after having lost about four hours which would be too hard to make up over the journey, considering he'd not been particularly generous with his rest breaks to begin with.

Dean seriously debated trying Brandon, but had a suspicion that his ex on-again-off-again lover may be the very reason he was in this mess in the first place. Plus Brandon was also likely to be in surgery. Or the E.R. Or making out with some nurse in an elevator. Or just relaxing between shifts and thus preventing him from answering a call from Dean.

They’d met when Dean had been taken to Nacogdoches Memorial with a Rattlesnake bite and had then reacted badly to the Antivenin used to treat him. Dr. Brandon “Sexy” Palmer M.D., had been only too thrilled to bring his throng of residents in to learn from Dean’s misfortune. Fighting his initial irritation at being treated like a lab rat, Dean had commented on the Doc’s cowboy boots, winked suggestively at the residents, and flirted shamelessly with everyone who got within striking range. Dr. Palmer had taken a personal interest in his recovery after that. It was incredible they hadn't met before, really, considering the number of times Dean had ended up at the Memorial to be patched up from one or another too-close encounter with Texas' multitude of wildlife. They’d had some decent sex (even outside of hospital visits), but were both too busy with work. Admittedly, Dean had to travel a fair amount for his job as a Game Warden, the Wildlife and Parks Department sending him out to the far corners of the state when necessary. But he also had a lot of down time, spent on his phone in a crappy motel or in his truck, so he was far from unavailable. Dr. Sexy, on the other hand, specialized in mixing work with pleasure, partially out of necessity, Dean allowed, because he spent so much of his time at the hospital working. Dean accused Brandon of starring in a sordid real-life hospital drama ("Gotta play to my audience, Butch".) and Brandon accused Dean of spending whatever free time he had working on his 'precious car' (“Damn right, she is.”) or on the phone to his 'brother, dearest' (“Sammy and Jess are planning their wedding. It’s stressful, he needs my support.”). 

Dean hadn't even bothered to ask Brandon to come with him to Sammy's wedding. He knew that Brandon wouldn’t want to take, what he deemed unnecessary, time off work to make the drive out to California. Didn't stop him bitching to Dean about it though. 

"Not ready for your family to meet a boyfriend, huh?" Brandon had taunted. Actually, Dean had been open about his bisexuality with his family for years, he'd just never had a partner he felt excited about introducing them to. Plus he wasn't sure he could endure spending that length of time listening to Brandon drone on about work. No one's job was that interesting. It had made him realize that the relationship had run its course and it was time to break things off– for good this time. He honestly hadn’t thought Brandon would be so petty about it. He definitely hadn't thought he'd be pissed enough to sabotage Baby. But here Dean was; newly single and with a car that coincidentally wouldn't start.

Back inside the small ranch-style house, Dean pulled the laptop out of his desk drawer where he’d tidied it away for the weekend. He’d just have to figure out how to take a bus. Maybe connect up with the Amtrak or something. That option was quickly ruled out, however, as it only took a few minutes online to determine that public transport was going to take a similar amount of time as the drive would have done. Plus the last bus had already left. And some of the rail connections only ran on weekends. It was nigh impossible to get to Palo Alto by Friday afternoon by bus or train. Stupid American public transit.

He sat for a moment, staring blankly at the screen and begrudging the fact this wasn't magically Europe where he could cross four countries by public transit on a whim, let alone four states. Although then he’d have to actually live in Europe, which he didn’t really want. He was all American, thank you very much. 

His palms were starting to feel sticky. Typically Dean would rather face a pack of rabid dogs (which he had, in fact, had to do once, a year or so back) than set foot on an airplane, let alone fly in one, but he had no idea what else he could do. He’d tried everyone who would be even vaguely likely to loan him a vehicle, and public transport across four states in thirty-six hours was apparently too much to ask for mid-week. He had been so happy when Sammy had asked him to be his Best Man, and they’d talked more than usual over the past few months, and Dean was really excited to see all of Sam and Jess’ planning come to fruition. So fear be damned, he was not missing being Best Man for his little brother’s wedding for anything. He refocussed himself on the browser window, typed in _expedia.com_ and began to search for a flight.

The really galling thing was that it was _insanely_ easy to book a flight. The whole trip cost him less than two hundred bucks. Plus now he would be able to spend some extra time relaxing at Sam’s after the wedding, rather than having to tear off as soon as it was over. Maybe he’d call Mary and ask if she wanted to have lunch with him on Sunday. It would be nice to spend some one on one time with his mom. He’d call her straight after he let Sammy know of the change to his travel plans. He picked up his cell phone.

Sam picked up after just a few rings. “Hey, Dean. You on the road already?”

“Actually, there’s been a small change of plan. I’m gonna fly.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Well, no. Baby won’t start.”

“Oh, Dean.”

“But don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll be there on Friday afternoon. Can you pick me up at the airport in San Francisco at ten to three?”

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah, it lands at 2:50, San Francisco International. I’m sure. Or do you need me to get a cab?”

“No, I’ll be there to meet you. But flying. I mean, obviously I want you to be here, but you hate planes, Dean, really? You sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. It’ll be a breeze. And I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

“Well, I’m sorry it has to be like this, but I’m glad you’re still coming.”

“Of course I’m coming. Wouldn’t miss my little brother’s wedding come hell or high water.”

“I’m guessing either one of those might have been less stressful for you to deal with. Still, I appreciate it, Dean. You know your being there means a lot to me, and to Jess.”

“I know, Sammy. See you at the airport?”

“Sure thing. Night, Dean.”

“Night, Sam.”

He disconnected and had to scramble for his cell as it slipped out of his slick palms. He set it down on the desk and took a slow, deep, calming breath as he wiped his hands on his thighs.

He could do this.


	2. Friday, 11:30 A.M. (CST)

Dean was uncomfortably damp by the time he reached Love Field. He was glad the flight had been out of Dallas proper, and he hadn’t had to drive the extra distance to Dallas Fort Worth International, because it was an especially hot and humid morning. He was also glad he’d been able to drive his Baby rather than the Silverado he used for work. Not only would he likely have been reprimanded for driving it for personal business, but the size of the truck was a pain in the city. He felt calmed by the familiar feel and smell of his own car as he sat in traffic, thinking about the previous day.

He’d spent the whole day killing time and trying not to fret, or even think about his new travel arrangements beyond checking in for the flight. He’d already taken the time off of work, originally thinking he’d be spending most of that day cruising across New Mexico and Arizona in the Impala, so keeping busy around the house was the only option. 

He’d woken up on Thursday morning determined to get the Impala running again. Truth be told, it was something he should have thought of the night before, and certainly would have if he hadn’t been in such a rush to leave. Swapping the coil and the plug wires on the distributor was an old - easily Googled - trick, and definitely identified Brandon as the perp. Good riddance to the spiteful son of a bitch, Dean had decided. Swapping the wires back was also annoyingly easy, and once Dean had verified that the Impala was back in prime condition, it was still only mid-morning.

He’d showered off the grease and sweat, then indulged in a slow lazy brunch, taking the time to make himself eggs, bacon, and even hash browns. Then he’d cleaned up meticulously, washing and drying everything and wiping down all the surfaces in his little kitchen. He was pleased that he’d at least taken the time to leave the place clean while he was gone. That had something of an impromptu spring-clean (okay, technically it was more of a midsummer clean, what with it being June and all), going from room to room with a bucket of soapy water, a few rags, and the vacuum cleaner. 

He chuckled to himself, acknowledging Sammy’s accusations that he was kind of a neat freak. That was only because he’d been picking up his brother’s shit for so long that it had kind of become ingrained in his routine, plus keeping things generally tidy and clutter free made stuff easier to find. He didn’t really clean as often as he should though, so it had actually felt good to literally wipe away the dust, and brush off the cobwebs. 

Mainly it had felt good to stay busy and to not think about the fact he would have to get on an airplane. Which was why Dean, having moved through the house like a whirlwind, had gone outside to tackle the lawn. True, the grass hadn't grown that fast with all the dry hot weather they’d had over the last few weeks, but he still felt better knowing that he hadn’t left it unmown over the weekend. 

The stop-start of the morning traffic left Dean’s stomach feeling less than pleasant. After finishing in the yard yesterday, he’d still had a whole evening to kill. Needless to say, the couple of beers he had with dinner turned into finishing off a bottle of whiskey as he’d began to panic about the flight as soon as his mind was left to wander. 

He was thoroughly regretting finishing off the whiskey by the time he was pulling into the parking garage at Love Field Airport, driving the wrong way down the rows twice before finding a spot in long-term-parking where he felt Baby was unlikely to be bumped or scraped. It was partly because the two cups of coffee had done nothing to clear his head that morning, but possibly even more so because he wished he’d had the foresight to save a shot or two to have now. Thinking about his worries from the night before had tipped him full-on back into panic mode, and now he was actually at the airport, he was feeling decidedly more anxious.

Dean headed straight to security. He’d already printed his boarding pass out at home and didn’t have a bag to check, just his carry-on sized duffel. He’d packed the only real ‘smart’ clothes he owned which weren’t work uniforms or suits: a pair of black jeans ( Brandon had told him they were too tight, but Dean liked the slight sheen that the denim had), and the only two button down shirts he owned that weren’t flannel. It wasn’t that Sammy would be bothered by the faded old jeans and frayed-sleeved henley he was currently wearing, more that he knew his brother, and especially his mom, would really appreciate any effort he made at looking presentable. In all honesty, it was just a huge relief that he hadn’t been trusted to provide his own suit for the wedding. His suits were functional, and he only really owned them because he occasionally had to attend work functions where his warden’s uniform wasn’t appropriate. Sam and Jess had wanted the entire wedding party to be coordinated, so he’d emailed his measurements months ago. He hadn’t even paid much attention to the pictures of the three-piece suit Sam had responded with, and was happy just to go with whatever they had ready for him at the final fitting tomorrow morning.

The airport was busy and Dean fidgeted in line waiting for TSA to do their thing, the airport air conditioning making his earlier sweat dry with an unpleasant chill. Predictably, he set off the alarm when it was finally his turn to walk through the detector, and was ushered aside to be patted down. He wasn’t usually on the receiving end of a pat down, but was all too familiar with conducting them. He could even appreciate the technique and efficiency of the agent, despite his rising panic. The agent quickly ascertained that Dean had failed to remove his belt and buckle, and once that had been rectified, he was sent through again. This time, the machinery remained quiet, and he was allowed to redress in peace, before facing the departures board to locate his flight. It took him a minute to find his flight number on the long list of continually updating departures. Ah, there it was, Virgin America (he couldn’t help snicker at the name) flight 715 to San Francisco. 

“Thirteen? You gotta be kidding me,” Dean muttered to himself. _My fuckin’ luck that of all the planes outta this godforsaken place, mine’s gotta be the one leaving from gate thirteen._ He slung his duffel higher on his shoulder and trudged off in the correct direction.

Reaching the gate made his mood instantly worse: the plane was delayed. God dammit. He paced up and down for a few moments listening to the announcement over the tannoy system. 

“The cabin crew will perform additional checks on the aircraft before commencing boarding. We expect the process to take approximately fifteen minutes and are aiming to begin boarding at 12:45”.

Dean thought about going up to the desk to ask what was wrong with the plane that made them need to do more ‘checks’, whatever those might be, but there was a line of passengers trying to get upgraded, and handing over children’s car seats. Standing still was making him twitchy and the thought that anything might be wrong with the plane had made his rising nausea require him to duck into a restroom. After exiting a stall, he let the cool water run over his clammy palms for a few moments, before splashing his face and running wet fingers through his sweat-spiked hair. When he looked up, his pale reflection stared back at him from the bathroom mirror. He looked bad, even by his own standards, and he forced himself to take a few slow deep, calming breaths. 

_Nut up, Winchester. Shit, you’ve manhandled mountain lions and gators, a short flight should be easy as pie._ Dean scolded, trying to bolster himself. He walked slowly back to the gate, trying to focus on his breathing, and the feeling of his bag strap cutting into his shoulder.

Back at the gate he stood far enough away from the throng to pretend he could ignore it, but close enough to hear the announcements. Finally they were given the okay to board and the passengers began to crowd the two ground crew scanning travel documents. Dean stayed put, wanting to keep his feet on terra firma for as long as possible before boarding, waiting until the rush had cleared before walking up and handing over his boarding card and I.D. Nearly everyone was already seated as he found his way to his seat. Thankfully he had managed to get an aisle seat, so he didn’t need to push past anyone. He went to put his duffel in the bin above his seat, but it was packed full. Two overhead bins later and he’d finally managed to cram his bag in. Dean sighed and took his seat next to a man with light brown hair, rivaling Sam’s in length. The guy was playing some kind of game on a tablet and popping jelly beans into his mouth in rapid succession, but looked up to acknowledge Dean’s arrival.

He listened half-heartedly to the mandatory safety announcement, trying not to think about emergency landings or sudden drops in the cabin’s pressure, while simultaneously registering that his closest emergency exits were, in fact, behind him. Just as he’d begun to think it was a good thing he’d sat near the rear of the plane, he was startled by a deep, sultry voice floating over him.

“Excuse me, Sir, I have to ask you to turn off your device in preparation for takeoff." The flight attendant addressed Dean’s candy munching neighbor, giving Dean ample opportunity to register chorded muscles running up forearms, perfectly tousled dark hair, an amazingly angled jaw with stubble just begging to be scratched, and the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. 

The man ignored the request, ostensibly due to having headphones on.

This time the flight attendant reached across to lightly touch the man’s arm. Dean couldn’t help but notice his long, slender fingers and neatly trimmed nails. 

Dean’s attention was brought sharply back to his more general surroundings by the flight attendant’s next words. “Sir, please power off your device in readiness for takeoff”. 

“What happens if he keeps the thing on? Does it mess with the pilots’ controls?” Dean asked with some concern, but also mainly hoping that the mesmerizing voice and eyes might focus on him instead.

“Well, no, not if it’s in flight mode, and the evidence in general is inconclusive although there is some correlation between transmitting devices and disruptions to navigational instruments." The flight attendant sighed, clearly well versed on this topic due to prior holdouts.

 _Castiel_ , the name on his badge stated, with the flags beneath indicating he spoke English, French, Spanish, and…maybe Russian, Dean wasn't entirely certain about the last flag. God, he was stunning _and_ a genius. Who spoke four different languages? Dean felt like he barely managed one most days.

“So I don’t really need to turn it off at all, seems that flight mode is indeed switched on,” the candy man said, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and offering Dean a jelly bean from his bag.

“Er, no thank you”.

“Even still, Sir," Castiel-the-flight-attendant continued, “it is FAA policy that all electrical devices are powered down and stowed during takeoff and landing”. He gave Dean a pointed _thanks for making my job extra difficult_ look.

“Yes, a policy informed by best practice, and based on outdated research into the technology, rather than a useful regulation or actual safety requirement.”

Damn, who was this guy? A fucking lawyer? “Hey man, I think you should just do what he says.” Dean tried to keep the pleading tone from his voice. “It would suck to have the navigation, uh, things, fail and the flight get delayed any further.” He looked up at Castiel, trying to show he wanted to help resolve this terrifying breach of safety protocol.

His desperate tone, if not his reasoning, seemed to do the trick and the man eventually turned off his tablet, wrapping the headphones around it before tucking it into the seat back pocket. Candy Man presented a fake smile to Castiel, who in turn shot a grateful last look at Dean before continuing with his rounds.

“God, he was pernicious,” said the man next to him.

Dean looked at him skeptically. “He was just tryin’ to do his job.” 

“Gabriel.” The guy offered his hand to Dean, who shook it reluctantly, only too aware of how clammy his hands were.

“Uh, Dean.”

“Not fond of flying, huh?” asked Gabriel. Dean shook his head. Gabriel shrugged. “Worst things happen at sea, you know. That’s the saying, anyway.” He offered the packet of jelly beans once more. “Go on, it’ll help settle your stomach.” 

Dean declined again. “No. Thanks, but really, no. Not what I need right now.” 

“Suit yourself.” Gabriel popped one into his own mouth and sucked on it over dramatically, and Dean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Instead, he wiped his damp palms on his jeans and tried to focus on keeping his breathing slow and even. 

The plane had finished taxiing by this time, and as the engines began to rev up for takeoff, Dean let his mind wander on images of piercing blue eyes and an angular jaw, shaded with stubble. Cas- Castiel. Dean rolled the name over and over in his mind. Sounding it out, imagining what the voice belonging to the name might sound like saying it. What Castiel might sound like saying Dean’s own name: low, rasping, needy. He imagined how those muscled arms and long fingers might feel holding on to him. He imagined what those intense eyes might look like darkened and hazy with lust.

It was a distracting enough train of thought that the next thing Dean became aware of was that they were airborne, and he was opening his eyes because the husky voice was no longer in his head, but once again coming from beside him, asking if he would like any refreshments.

He noticed Gabriel had his headphones back on and was now giggling inanely at something he was watching on the in-seat tv screen. 

“A JD and Coke, please.” He hoped the carbonation might help to settle his stomach, while the alcohol settled his nerves.

As Castiel presented Dean with a pathetically small bottle of Jack Daniels, Dean took the opportunity to apologize.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you.”

Castiel looked over at Gabriel, engrossed in his chosen viewing. “Many passengers believe they are exempt from our safety procedures. It really is a good thing that the correlation between portable devices and technical issues at takeoff is insignificant, otherwise there would be planes crashing on a daily basis."

The color faded from Dean’s face, and his grip tightened visibly on his armrests.

“Oh goodness!” It was Castiel’s turn to apologize. “That was a completely inappropriate comment for me to make, Sir. I see now that you don’t feel at ease flying. I assure you that Virgin America has an outstanding safety record and that your comfort aboard today’s flight is our greatest concern.”

“ ’S okay.” Dean tried to relax, and found that meeting Castiel’s concerned gaze went a long way to helping with that. 

“I know it’s not rational. But it just feels so wrong to be sitting in a tin can hurtling through the air is all. Wouldn't be doing it if I'd had any other choice, but missing my little brother's wedding wasn't an option. Sammy asking me to be his best man means too much for me to just throw it away coz I get a little antsy on a plane."

"It certainly would have been a long way to drive."

"Nah, I've done it before, only the Ex tampered with my car, and by the time I'd fixed her it was too late to make the drive." 

Castiel looked slightly horrified by this explanation.

"Er, my car. She's a classic, and I built her, so fixing her was just a matter of time. The Ex? Yeah... No, couldn't fix him even if I'd wanted to." 

Dean blushed slightly, realizing he'd inadvertently outed himself. But Castiel simply nodded sympathetically, and smiled wanly. 

“Well, if there is anything I can do to help make your flight more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to use your call button.” The flight attendant delivered the scripted parting remark and Dean watched his ass appreciatively as Castiel pushed the refreshment cart down the aisle, continuing to serve drinks to the other passengers.

 _Make me more comfortable?_ Dean thought, toying absent-mindedly with his lower lip. Nope, the attractive flight attendant was definitely making his flight more _uncomfortable_. His jeans were starting to feel decidedly tight in the crotch, and Dean was grateful his tray table was down to hold his drink and preserve his modesty.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take Dean long to down the whiskey, and come to the conclusion that choosing liquor on an empty stomach whilst flying was a terrible idea. He pushed the call button and soon enough Castiel appeared. Dean ordered the jerky off the menu, and Castiel stumbled over the jerk part, blushing. He promptly delivered the requested snack and reiterated that Dean “shouldn’t hesitate to call him if he desired more meat, or something else, another snack, or drink” and hurried away.  
Dean chewed thoughtfully on the cured beef, his palms sweating again, but now for an entirely different reason.


	3. Friday, 2:30 P.M. (CST)

It was a little over an hour into the flight when Dean summoned Castiel again. 

“How are you doing, Sir?” said the flight attendant.

“Call me Dean, please.”

“How can I be of assistance, S-, er, Dean?”

“How do you manage, flying every day, man? I can’t even handle a couple of hours without losing my cool.”

Castiel laughed, and God was it a beautiful sound, like distant thunder on a warm summer night, promising the cool kiss of rain to come. Dean felt it resonate deep within him and vowed to keep the guy talking as long as possible.

“I’ve been flying all my life, Dean,” said Castiel. “Even before I became a flight attendant. My father was in the Air Force and stationed overseas for many years, so we moved around a lot whilst I was growing up.”

“No, shit! My dad is military too. He’s kind of upset that my brother and I didn’t follow that path. More than upset, really.”

Castiel’s expression fell. “I know that feeling all too well. I’m the only one in my family who refused. The others all went off to become the good little soldiers like Daddy wanted.”

“Mine was furious that I refused to enlist after high school, not that my grades were good enough to do much else. ’Course, that wasn’t the only reason.”

Castiel nodded in understanding. “I was desperate to fly - I think it’s in our blood, my family’s -but I wanted to go to college, and after majoring in Anthropology I just felt violence is never the best solution, so the Air Force was out of the question.”

“I know what you mean, man. My father was always a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type. I wanted a job where I protect and serve in a different sort way. So how long have you been a flight attendant?”

Castiel was about to answer when one of his colleagues bustled by, all starchy red uniform and efficiency, and whatever he had been going to say was abandoned.

“Well, I’m glad you are feeling much calmer now. Would you like that Coke with ice?”

It took a moment for Dean to process what Castiel was talking about, mainly because he realized he _was_ feeling calmer after their conversation.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Thanks.” 

Castiel made a hurried departure back towards the rear of the plane. 

Dean tried to focus on what had just been discussed, rather than the whir of the engines, and slight movements of the plane in flight. He’d been able to forget everything while talking to Castiel, focussing solely on the sound of his deep voice, what he had to say and the intensity of those blue eyes. He closed his own eyes now, replaying the conversation over in his head. So, Castiel also came from a military background, and just like Dean, he’d rejected it. And also like him, Castiel had siblings, although it sounded like more than just a brother. Still, that was good. A good foundation. They had some things in common, at least. Dean had started relationships with far less.

_Woah, Winchester. Easy there, bro. You just met the guy._ He admonished himself for letting his thoughts run away with him. _But when did you last meet anyone who made you hard and aching with just an innocent conversation about family. And on an airplane no less, where you're usually too strung out to breathe, let alone flirt._

Once again Dean realized he’d forgotten where he was, focused as he’d been on Castiel. And, as if answering a prayer he didn’t even know he’d made, the flight attendant appeared at Dean’s side once more holding a small can of Coke in one hand and a glass with ice in the other.

“You really didn’t have to bring those, you know.” Dean looked up and smiled as he accepted the proffered beverage.

“I need to be providing a service.” 

“Trust me, you are. When we’re talking I completely forget about feeling nervous. I’d say you are doing your job and then some. You seriously never get nervous?”

Castiel shook his head and his forehead scrunched up slightly. How even did he manage to make that look attractive?

“Even when it gets really bumpy?” Dean’s hands had tightened on the armrests as the plane shuddered ever so slightly. 

“You get used to it,” said Castiel. “And it is extremely rare that turbulence leads to injury, especially anything of serious nature. The very few times where that was the case, was because passengers or cabin crew had not followed the proper procedure.”

They both glanced pointedly at Gabriel, who remained entirely oblivious to anything other than the episode of Cake Wars he was currently watching.

“This craft, the Airbus A320 actually has an impeccable safety record. They have one of the lowest fatality rates of all planes.”

“Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a guy.”

Castiel looked mortified. “It was meant to be reassuring, but reminding you of the worst case scenario was far from tactful. I am so sorry, Dean.”

He began to rise from the squat position he’d assumed during the conversation, but before he could move away Dean reached out and laid his hand on Castiel’s forearm. The flight attendant immediately froze at the touch and Dean could feel the bunch of muscle beneath his palm. 

“Hey, it was a joke. I’m honestly impressed you know so much about the industry. And you do make me feel good, er, I mean, better. Reassured. Knowing the facts.” He hoped Castiel couldn’t feel the moisture from his palm through the thin material of his dress shirt, and hastily took his hand back.

“I mentioned I’ve been interested in flying all my life,” Castiel said, “and I like to know as much as I can about the planes I fly in. These are my wings, so I need to understand them.”

Dean was transfixed by the intensity of Castiel’s gaze, the truth and passion it held, and found himself unable to look away.

Castiel who broke the moment. “Well, I should be…”

“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry for keeping you so long. And I really do appreciate knowing this plane is…”

“Very safe. You’re in good hands, Dean.” 

Oh god, Dean did not need to think about all the good things Castiel’s hands were no doubt capable of. He looked down at his lap, feeling his face getting warm.

“I would never let anything bad happen to you.”

That the words seemed to transcend the current moment slowly filtered into Dean’s conscience, and his eyes snapped up to connect with Castiel’s intense gaze. He didn’t think he’d imagined the subtext, but he was suddenly finding it very difficult to think rationally, between his achingly hard dick and his wandering thoughts. 

"Thanks, Castiel."

The flight attendant smiled at him, and at last turned and returned to work.

Shit, Dean was in trouble. Not to mention the last time someone had looked at him like that he’d gotten laid. He just couldn’t remember reacting like this to anyone, in… well, ever really. He couldn’t decide if it was the voice - full of dark delicious promise, those mesmerizing blue eyes – so striking when paired with the mess of dark hair, or Castiel’s intelligent, earnest and passionate conversation. All he knew was that he wanted to discover everything there was to know about this man. How many brothers or sisters did he have? How many countries had he traveled to? Where was his favorite place to fly? What did the flesh below his ear taste like? How would it feel to be held in those lean, strong arms? What did he sound like as he came?

To distract him from tumbling further down that particular rabbit hole, Dean opened the can of soda that Castiel had brought him. The cloyingly sweet, cool, sparkling liquid actually felt pretty good, especially after the salty jerky he’d previously had. He licked his lips, imagining it was the salty sweet taste of Castiel instead. Man, he seriously needed to get a grip, or else he was never going to be able to put the tray table back up. And he really didn’t want to disappoint Castiel for not following proper procedure.

Twenty minutes later, unable to wait any longer, Dean pressed the call button again.

“Hello, Dean. What can I do for you?”

Oh god. Dean had to bite down on his lip to stop from answering. Anything. Everything. He inhaled deeply willing himself to think before he spoke.

“Er, is this a regular route for you?” he managed to ask.

“Yes. It’s actually a three-stop trip. We fly from Austin to Dallas, Dallas to San Francisco - your flight - and then from San Francisco back to Austin. That’s where I live, so it’s really very convenient.”

Woah, this was exciting information from what had simply been a desperate attempt to get Castiel talking. And it turned out Dean only lived five hours from him. “Hey, that's awesome, you live in Texas too! I live a short ways out from Nacogdoches, though I end up all over the state for my work.”

“You said you wanted a job where you could ‘protect and serve’, what do you do, Dean?”

Warmth flooded through him that Castiel had remembered what he’d said. “Yeah, I’m actually a Game Warden for the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department. Some of it’s routine patrols across the East, but if there’s an issue elsewhere in the state whoever is on call at that time gets sent to assist. So I end up driving all over.”

“That’s certainly an unusual line of work. Do you deal mainly with people or animals?” Castiel seemed genuinely interested.

“Some of both really. Not gonna lie though, the animals are a whole lot easier to deal with mostly.” Dean shook his head thinking of the types of critters he normally encountered: wild, misunderstood creatures, scared into aggression because some stupid idiot didn’t have the sense to leave it well enough alone. “Don’t know how you cope, man. Dealing with people day in day out.”

“You’d be amazed at how little real interaction we have with passengers. Our job is mainly to serve and look the part. Some crew are more open to conversation, but I tend to focus on providing them with what they need.” 

_Oh you can give me what I need any time._ Because Hell yes, did Castiel look the part in the starched red flight attendant's vest buttoned tight across his lean torso. Dean would be the first to admit that it played right into his uniform kink. None of this was helping the matter of his aching dick.

_Gotta get your mind out the gutter, Winchester._ He desperately needed to move the conversation to a safer topic. “So what’s the best place you fly to?” Yeah, that was better.

“Other than home?” Castiel smiled wistfully. “Before I was with Virgin I did quite a few routes through the Caribbean. The British Virgin Islands are wonderful. I’d also very much like to spend more time in Prague, we lived there for a little over a year when I was in high school.”

“You traded one Virgin for another, huh?” It was a weak joke, but Dean couldn’t help himself. Yup, he was firmly in the gutter.

Castiel cocked his head to one side and looked slightly confused. He reminded Dean of a snared coyote trying to make up its mind whether you were going to help it or hurt it. The silence was awkward enough for Dean to feel the need to speak again. “I mean, you liked to travel to the Virgin Islands, but then you came to work for Virgin who don’t fly there, right? Sorry, it was supposed to be funny.” He looked down at the unfinished drink on his tray table.

“I was actually trying to think of a clever response about having graduated from virgins, but I’m not very good with puns.” Castiel looked rather bashful at this admission. 

Was it cuter that he’d failed to make the joke, or that he had felt the need to explain himself? Dean couldn’t decide. Pretty much everything about Castiel was cute. “Er, should I be ordering another snack? Don’t wanna get you in trouble or anything.”

That seemed to put Castiel somewhat at ease and he straightened a little. “Of course, I’ve been neglecting your needs. What can I get for you, Dean?”

Gulp. “Erm, whatever is easy, I guess. I’m not really that hungry, to be honest. What about some pretzels?”

Castiel gave a little bob of his head (cute) before hurrying away to procure the requested item. Dean couldn't resist turning to watch him walk away, appreciating the tailoring of his black slacks taut over his rear (cute). This was all bad. Bad, bad, bad. He had to get a grip on himself or else he was going to get himself deeper in trouble, let alone Castiel, who was on the job. Who, no sooner had Dean thought his name, appeared at his side once again proffering a couple bags of pretzels and a napkin. 

“Guess I’m a pretty annoying passenger, what with the nervousness, _and_ forcing you into telling me your life story.” Dean apologized.

“Not in the slightest. You are not at all demanding and I have been greatly enjoying our talk. It’s not often I am able to have meaningful interactions whilst working. Though Naomi has instructed me that it is inappropriate to simply “chat” with passengers. I appreciate your ordering the pretzels. But no, Dean, you are far from annoying.” His eyes were earnest as he squatted back down next to him in the isle. “Annoying passengers are the ones who intentionally put themselves and others at risk. Who are noisy and rude. Who make unwelcome advances towards the crew. You have done none of those things.”

Dean looked down feeling slightly guilty and very glad that Castiel couldn’t read his mind. That train of thought had to stop now. “Hey, Casti– Cas? I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me. Can I ask one last favor?” 

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel didn’t seem to mind Dean had used such a familiar form of address.

“Is it safe if I leave my seat? I mean, the seat belt sign isn’t on right now, and I sort of have to… I gotta... You know. _Relieve_ myself? But I don’t know about walking with the bumps… You have such good balance. I just feel like I’m going to trip or be thrown all over.”

“I will ensure you reach the bathrooms without any harm coming to you, Dean,” Cas assured (yeah, the name suited him). “You can hold on to the headrests as you walk for support, and I can follow directly behind you. Plus if you start to feel especially anxious while in the bathroom there is a call button there too, so that we can assist you.”

Dean was hugely relieved when Cas stood up first and gestured for Dean to go ahead of him. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the boner that had become increasingly painful over the past couple of hours. He managed to scramble up and start slowly towards the rear of the plane. He'd just have to deal with this without assistance and get over this infatuation.


	4. Friday, 4:00 P.M. (CST)

Thank goodness there was no line for the bathroom. Dean went straight into one of the tiny bathrooms and began fighting to close the strangely folding door. The task was made all the more difficult when suddenly all he could think about was the likelihood that Cas was a member of the Mile High Club and had no doubt slammed his conquests up against a door just such as this. He slid the lock closed and the cubicle light came to life. Dean felt unbearably hot imagining Cas confined in here with him, and before he could think better of it (and also because there was no way he could actually empty his bladder with his cock pointing at the compulsory bathroom smoke detector), he unzipped his fly and pushed his jeans and briefs down enough to free his painfully constrained dick. 

He figured indulging in his fantasy was a pretty good way to kill a little more flight time, especially if he could (try to) take it slow. The problem was, he’d been hard for so long, and talking to Cas so recently, that he could almost imagine he was audibly hearing the gruff, sensual voice. He went with it, stroking himself slowly as he pictured Cas behind him, purring into his ear. _How are you feeling, Dean?_

~

“How are you feeling, Dean?” Castiel was surreptitiously leaning his head towards the restroom door, repeating his previous comment. It was so difficult to hear over the engine noise. “Are you doing okay? Is everything alright?” He strained to make out an answer.

~

Dean was more than okay, sweat running freely down his spine as he worked his hand roughly up and down his engorged shaft. Taking it slowly wasn’t working, so he tightened his grip and added a twist at the end of each stroke, imagining the muscles in Cas' forearms bunching as he worked Dean mercilessly with his hand. He pictured the sky blue eyes turned to dusk with lust as Dean ran his tongue teasingly along the stubbled jawline. Oh god, yes, that was what he needed. 

“Ahhhhhh, Cas. I’m dying here.”

~

Had he heard something? Castiel was sure he’d heard some moaning and something that sounded like _I’m dying_ , even over the roar of the plane. He pressed his ear to the door and tried again, now truly worried that Dean was having a panic attack.

“Dean, what do you need?”

~

Dean’s hand was moving in a blur of motion as he imagined the low growl of Cas’ voice asking him what he needed. He wasn’t quite there, but it was getting close, a drop of precome moistening his hand as he twisted it up and over the head of his cock. He imagined that gravelly voice calling his name with abandon, its owner gripped by passion.

~

Castiel was increasingly gripped by fear. He wondered if he should call more loudly, although he certainly didn’t want to worry any of the other passengers. He’d try one more time, a little more forcefully so as to be heard over the ambient noise.

“Can you hear me, Dean? I’m concerned for your well-being. Dean?” Then a little louder still, “Dean?”

There was still no reply but a vague sound of choked cries and gasps. Castiel couldn’t contemplate the idea of any harm coming to any passenger, especially Dean, and Castiel himself had insisted that it was perfectly safe to use the bathroom. He was completely responsible for this crisis.

Without further deliberation he triggered the emergency unlock and pushed aside the folding door to the bathroom cubicle, exposing a bear-bottomed Dean in the midst of a very different sort of crisis. Although he was facing away from the door and Castiel, a glance in the mirror revealed exactly what Dean’s predicament was: approximately ten inches of pure masculine beauty, red, rigid, slick with sweat, a pearl of fluid nestled at its tip. Acting on instinct, Castiel stepped hurriedly into the closet to pull and lock the door expertly behind him. 

“Dean.” Cas’ voice was even smokier than Dean had imagined it, as he became all too aware of the suddenly very physical manifestation of his fantasy. He spun on his heels, and in doing so lost his balance and toppled backward towards the toilet. But rather than hitting the seat as he’d expected, instead Dean found himself being jerked forward and slamming into Cas’ chest, his still erect penis nudging into a flat, firm stomach. 

“A-a-are you okay?" Cas' eyes were wide with concern, shock, and something else which looked distinctly like interest.

Dean decided that honesty was probably the best policy in this situation. “Hell no! Not by any stretch of the imagination” he confessed, his own voice raspy with need.

“I thought you might require some assistance.” Cas’ tone was concerned, but the deep drawl betrayed a different meaning.

Dean couldn’t help the groan that escaped him. A sinful, guttural, full of honesty groan. “Assistance would be great.” 

He felt the other man shiver beneath him as the tip of Dean's nose connected with Cas’ neck. They stilled at the intimacy of the contact, despite being near flush against one another.

And then everything was in motion again; their mouths crashing together as if to devour one another. Lips, tongues, teeth explored every inch of exposed skin. Hands moved feverishly over torsos, backs, squeezing clenched cheeks and moving across narrow hips. Somehow Cas had managed to undo and push down his pants so that he was now wrapping his long, strong fingers around both of their dicks. He was as hard as Dean now, and wasted no time in stroking up and down their lengths, pressed together by proximity as much as his hand. 

Dean’s moans ratcheted in volume at the sensation, but Cas swallowed them in his kisses. He was so close to losing it completely but wanted to last, to take Cas over the edge with him. When Cas moved the hand anchoring Dean’s ass up to tangle in his hair, Dean took the opportunity to sit down on the toilet seat and promptly take Cas into his mouth. 

“Dean, you don’t need to– Fuck!” The protest died on his lips as the feeling of Dean’s tongue swirling around his dick as he sucked short-circuited Cas’ brain.

Dean revelled in the breathy sounds from above as he tried to focus on not catching his teeth on the delicate skin between his lips. He toyed with Cas’ balls and fantasized about slipping a finger back to tease his hole when he was suddenly being hauled up against Cas’ chest again.

Cas crashed their mouths together in a sloppy, frantic kiss, and then pulled away again just as quickly.

“I want us both to share the pleasure.” He reached down to clasp their twinned erections and began working them in earnest. 

Dean let his head fall forward onto Cas’ shoulder as he moved his hand over the one stroking his length. Their full, thick lengths. Their fingers slid between one another as they worked themselves in unison, panting and sweating in the enclosed space. 

They came moments apart, grunting and moaning into each other’s necks as their bodies slumped with exertion and pleasure. Cas leaned back heavily against the door and Dean pressed forward against him.

“ ’M sure that’s the absolute best panic attack I’ve ever had.”

Cas responded with a rumbling chuckle and stroked his fingers down Dean's neck. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to administer mouth to mouth. I’ve had all the requisite training but have fortunately never been called upon to demonstrate my skills.”

“Trust me, Cas, your ‘mouth to mouth’ skills have been more than adequately demonstrated.” Dean smiled at his own joke, though, in all honesty, he seemed unable to stop smiling at the moment. “Though I imagine that training was acquired through less official channels” he added, shivering at the thought of Cas honing his skills in any of Dean’s channels.

It took a moment for Dean to notice that Cas had tensed up. “Hey there, what’d I say?” he asked, concerned.

“You think I’ve done this before? That I regularly follow attractive passengers into the restroom to fraternize with them?” Cas’ voice was quiet, pained.

“You don’t?” asked Dean, in all seriousness. 

Cas didn’t reply. 

“Wait, you think I’m attractive?” Dean’s green eyes met Cas’ blue ones as his brain processed the entire sentence.

“No, never before. And yes, decidedly so. Although that’s not why I followed you,” Cas reassured him.

“Oh.” 

Dean broke eye contact as a blush spread across his cheeks. When there was no response, he lifted his gaze back to Cas’ face and saw the hint of a crooked smile there.

“Oh,” Dean said again, more confidently this time.

His mouth made such a sensual shape making the sound that Cas couldn’t resist fitting his own over it, seizing the opportunity to slide his tongue between Dean’s lips.

Several long kisses later, the two men began to tidy themselves up. They continually bumped and crowded each other in the impossibly small space, both playful and possessive as they prepared their exit. More often than not they ended up making out and had to start the process all over again. Eventually pants were buttoned, shirts straightened, faces splashed, hands washed, fingers combed through hair and they were relatively presentable. There was no way to entirely smooth away the thoroughly kissed lips, or slightly blissed out expressions they both wore, but it was as good as it was going to get. 

“Ready to return to reality?” Dean asked, still flush against Cas in the confines of the bathroom.

“Not really, but I’m sure my absence will be noted if we take any longer.” Cas looked slightly nervous, despite the slight smile. “If it hasn’t already.”

Dean was about to reassure him with one last kiss when the plane suddenly dipped notably. He was instantly rigid with fear, gripping Cas’s arms tightly enough to bruise. 

“Hey, it’s just an air pocket.” Cas slid an arm around him, both for emotional and physical support. “Deep breaths, Dean. I’m here with you. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.” 

The green eyes were wide with fear, and the vice-like grip on Cas’ arm hadn’t eased, and if anything tightened as the plane jolted again and the Fasten Seatbelt sign pinged on. They’d obviously hit a significant stretch of changeable airspeed which would continue to cause the aircraft’s altitude to fluctuate. Cas hoped they would pass through it fairly quickly, but that wasn’t going to do anything to soothe Dean. “Just focus on my voice, I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Let’s get you back to your seat and buckled in again.” 

Dean nodded jerkily as the plane continued to shudder.

“Okay, I’m going to open the door. Balance on my shoulder. I’ve got you, Dean.” Castiel shifted his position so that the arm around Dean’s waist was now supporting him somewhat.

Somewhere at the back of his mind Castiel realized that this was actually a blessing in disguise. He was sure that his prolonged absence from the Galley had been noted, Naomi having already spoken pointedly to him earlier in the flight. Now he had a genuine explanation for his prolonged absence and quite legitimately had to help Dean, practically paralyzed with fear, back to his seat.

He opened the bathroom door, navigating Dean directly into the path of Naomi.

“What’s happening here, Castiel?” Naomi stood with her arms folded across her chest and looked accusingly at the two men.

Dean could feel Cas behind him, shielding and protective and it lent him courage. 

“I came to the aid of this passenger, he suffered some sort of anxiety attack when the turbulence began,” Cas explained.

Dean did feel pretty wiped out now, no doubt looking like crap with his breathing shallow and clinging to Castiel as though his very life depended on the connection.

Naomi scanned Castiel them, no doubt taking in Cas’ dishevelled uniform, swollen lips, and tousled hair. Shit, she would probably guess exactly what, or rather _who_ , was the cause. At least Dean looked as freaked out as Castiel said he was.

Not that it stopped Naomi from chastising them. 

“I am sure you are aware that it is against airline policy to be in a bathroom alone with a passenger, Castiel. Furthermore, it is only acceptable to enter an occupied bathroom if the passenger has used the button to specifically call for a crew member. I don’t believe that either of these rules were adhered to.”

“Couldn’t–” Dean’s voice was raspy and tight, hopefully lending credibility to his words. “Couldn’t let go to press it.”

“So, Castiel, you just _happened_ to be in the right place at the right time to hear this gentleman call out?” Her look was incredulous, despite not accusing Cas outright. “That doesn’t explain your appearance, or the duration of your absence. I think this warrants considerably more investigation. However, we will maintain professionalism.” She glowered at them but stepped out of the aisle to let them pass.

“You will escort this gentleman back to his seat and ensure he is appropriately settled, then immediately report back to me.” It wasn’t a request. 

Thank god, the needs of the customer always came first, Dean thought. Naomi was gonna let the matter drop, even though she probably suspected a member of her cabin crew had just been having sex in the bathroom. Dean let out a shaky breath and just hoped Cas could talk his way out of it.

He guided Dean back down the aisle and helped him to get as comfortable as possible back in he seat. “Is there anything else you need, Dean?” 

“Thanks, Cas. I’ll be okay. Go face the music.” Dean’s expression was still pained, but he looked determined, taking deep breaths like Cas had instructed him too. “You gonna be okay?”

Cas didn’t look particularly worried, so was hopefully confident he could handle Naomi. “I’ll check in with you as soon as I can, okay?” Cas ensured the lap belt was securely fastened, guiltily taking the opportunity to give Dean’s thigh a last reassuring and affectionate squeeze, before scurrying quickly away to face the wrath of his manager.


	5. Friday, 4:40 P.M. (CST)

Dean sat statue still strapped into his seat and trying to make sense of what was happening. He was undeniably freaked out by the continuing turbulence as the plane began its descent to the Golden State below, but now also beginning to panic about having just had sex in an airplane bathroom. He replayed the series of events over in his mind, remembering what Cas’ had said before the plane began dropping out the sky. God Dean hated flying, but there was something about Cas that had made it easier, given him strength. It was like a soothing touch that could magic away the pain and fear. Sure the distraction of sex had been great, more than great, but it had started long before that. 

Just talking with Cas and sharing the mundane instances of their work and lives had been enjoyable too, far more than Dean was willing to examine at this point in time. He’d taken himself in hand hoping to shrug those feelings off as a passing flirtation, but then Cas had cared enough to follow him. To join him. That hadn’t been Dean’s choice, it was all Cas, and damn had it been amazing. But then he’d had the friggin’ panic attack. God, Cas must think he was so pathetic. 

He looked down at his hands clamped to the armrests, his grip turning his knuckles white. He was pathetic, and now he’d probably blown any chance with Cas. Who was he kidding, they’d met less than three hours ago, it was hardly going to get serious (not that he’d been anything but serious when he’d had the guy’s dick down his throat). Dean flinched as the aircraft lurched again and began humming ‘Nothing Else Matters’ to take his mind off his failings as a human being. 

“A Metallica fan, are we? Good choice, Dean-o.” Gabriel gave him a jovial wink but shrugged when no reaction was forthcoming and returned his focus to the Mars Bar he was eating and the game of Candy Crush he was playing over-enthusiastically on his tablet. 

After fifteen minutes, Cas still hadn’t been back to see him which Dean immediately decided meant that he regretted the whole incident. At least he didn’t think Cas would be sharing the details of his Mile High encounter with any of his co-workers. He remembered how nervous he’d looked when he’d asked if Cas was ready to leave the bathroom, and then the feel of the arm he’d snugged around Dean’s waist when the turbulence had started; reassuring but also drawing Dean close to him possessively. 

It was that thought that gave him the courage to push the call button again. He breathed slowly like Cas had said to while he waited for what felt like a very long time. He was met with disappointment when Naomi appeared beside him.

“Was there something you wanted, Sir?” she asked him curtly.

“Where’s Cas?”

“Castiel, you mean? He’s _assisting_ another passenger.” The implied lewdness of Naomi’s answer was unmistakable. Dean clenched his jaw, but didn’t respond.

“What was it you needed, Sir?” Naomi asked again, more impatiently this time.

“I need to see those brilliant blue eyes filled with want and desire and to hear that soul -deep groan as he spills hot and wet over our hands again,” Dean thought, but instead asked lamely, “uh, how long ’til we land?”

“We’ve begun our descent and our ETA at San Francisco International is 5:05 local time. I suggest you adjust your watch to Pacific Time now, Sir." Her lips pursed around the honorific as if it left a sour taste in her mouth.

“Uh, thanks.” Dean did adjust his watch, but mainly tried to catch Cas as the cabin crew fussed around doing their final rounds of the cabin before landing began proper. _Anna_ smiled kindly at him as she held the trash bag open for Gabriel to deposit his multitude of candy wrappers into, and Naomi bustled past ensuring that his tray table was up and he’d returned his seat back to its upright position (he had). He sat fidgeting with the loose fabric end of his seat belt, cinching it a little tighter as he was torn between alternating fears of crashing into the runway and never getting to speak with the handsome flight attendant again.

By the time the plane was taxiing, Dean’s hands were cramping, and he was drenched in a cold sweat. The first thing he’d do when he got to Sammy’s was shower. His brother would probably think he hadn’t washed in weeks. He laughed mirthlessly to himself, realizing he’d all but forgotten why he’d gotten on the plane in the first place, what with Cas and then his freak out. It would be really good to see Sam and put all this behind him. Throw himself into his duties as big brother and Best Man, and not obsess over unruly dark hair and eyes the shade of the summer sky.

The plane finally reached the terminal and he was caught up in the commotion of passengers eager to escape and overhead bins being divested of coats and bags. Now finding Castiel would be even more difficult. Dean wanted off the plane as much as the next guy, but he had to give it one last shot. He let Gabriel out ahead of him before finally recovering his duffel from the overhead bin and shuffling down the aisle towards the exit behind them. Thank god he was getting out of this can. Looking up to try and project himself towards the exit, he finally spotted Cas standing meekly beside it wishing people well as they disembarked the plane. He visibly straightened on seeing Dean.

“I hope you had a pleasant flight, Sir” was all he said, but the look he gave Dean spoke volumes.

“Cas…” Dean began, but Cas shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“On behalf of the Virgin America team today, we hope you have a pleasant stay in the Bay area,” Cas said noncommittally, but pushed something into Dean’s hand as the taller man moved passed him towards the gangway. He had no choice but to be carried forward along with the line of departing passengers, but kept his fist clenched tightly around the item he’d been given, as if it were the buoy keeping him afloat.

Dean stopped as soon as he was past the rush and inside the terminal building, opening his hand to reveal a tightly folded paper. He tried not to panic about what it might say. Staring down at the note he gratefully forced real air in and out of his lungs to calm himself. God this was getting old. Anyone would think that he was a startled rabbit rather than a full grown man in law-enforcement.

He slowly unfolded the page, neatly torn from a pocketbook and read:

__

> _Dean,_
> 
> _My employment will almost certainly be terminated on arrival in California._
> 
> _I regret nothing._
> 
> _Castiel.  
>  512-782-1513_

Dean read and reread the note to be sure he understood what it said. Shit. He’d gotten a guy fired. Because they’d made out in a bathroom. A guy who thought he was attractive. And had just given Dean his number. Cas had given him his number. Meaning he wanted Dean to call him. He wanted to talk to Dean, maybe even see him again. He had to force himself to breathe again.

He was still standing, staring blankly at the note, brain running a million miles an hour in fifty different directions when the cogs aligned and he remembered Sam. Shit, the flight had already been delayed and here he was making the kid wait even longer for him. He slipped the note into his pocket and, shaking his head temporarily free of all other thoughts, began to head off in the direction of the arrivals area. He’d made it two steps before he spotted the cabin crew entering the terminal from the plane and stopped dead in his tracks. 

Cas dragged behind the main group dejectedly but, as if drawn by some soul deep connection, his eyes snapped up to connect with Dean’s. His look was simultaneously hopeful and desperate, and Dean had to anchor himself with his duffle bag in order to stop himself from running and throwing himself at Cas. Instead, he turned the full Winchester smile on the man in the flight attendant’s uniform and tried desperately to convey his joy and longing by look alone. He hoped the answering hint of a smile meant that Cas had understood.

He followed the rest of the crew away, and Dean hurried on through the airport. It seemed to be extra busy in the arrivals hall, but fortunately Sammy was easy to find. He spotted him immediately, the broad 6’4” frame singling his little brother out from the crowd, and hurried over to meet him.

“Dean! Good to have you here, bro. Should I even ask how the flight was? Jesus, Dean. You smell awful.” Sam quickly released him from the hug that he’d started to pull his older brother into.

“I was going to hug you too, but maybe I’ll wait until you’ve had a chance to freshen up.” Jess gave Dean a playful punch, but he pulled her into a hug all the same. 

“Hi, yourself. And anyone who’s crazy enough to marry this Sasquatch can brave a little plane stink.” He grinned at her, their eyes on a level and her good mood always infectious. She was practically his height, and definitely woman enough to keep Sammy in check. Yup, he was going to be really happy to have her as a sister-in-law. “But please can we get out of this godforsaken place?” he begged.

“So I take it you haven’t suddenly become a fan of air travel? Come on. You can give us all the gory details in the car.” Sam laughed and draped his arm around Jess as they led the way out into the parking garage. _Well, maybe not all the details._ Dean smiled secretly to himself as he followed Sam and Jess out.


	6. Friday, 3:30 P.M. (PST)

It was an easy half hour drive from San Francisco International to Sam and Jess’ house and Dean had been more than happy to let Sam and Jess talk excitedly about the wedding. He knew most of the details anyway, having talked to them both so frequently on the phone in the past few months. There was definitely something about being there with them that finally made it feel like it was really happening. 

Little Sammy finally settling down with the love of his life. Not that they weren’t already settled. Dean had sometimes secretly wondered why they were bothering to go through all the trouble of a wedding when it seemed like they already had everything just as they wanted it; the Silicon Valley jobs, the house in the suburbs, two kids (albeit of the fury, canine variety), and the perfect relationship. Dean had never understood why a piece of paper with an official stamp made things feel more real to people, but then again Sammy had always been the more traditional of the two of them in some ways. 

"So what was the deal with Baby, huh Dean?"

He’d been so deep in his own thoughts, lulled by the sound of the road beneath him and the contented chatter of his family, he hadn’t registered that Jess had changed the topic. 

"Oh, nothin' really in the end. Just by the time I'd calmed down enough to figure it out, it was too late to make the drive. I'm ninety-nine per cent sure that Brandon was the perp though."

"That the reason he isn't with you?" Sam had made it clear that Dean was more than welcome to bring a date to the wedding, but equally clear that there was no expectation that he do so.

"More like I didn't ask him to come. And so he took it out on poor Baby. Asshole."

"Messy breakup, apparently." Jess laughed.

"All for the best really," Dean admitted, "I realize now that he was not who I want to have a relationship with." He gazed out the window at the clear blue California sky, and the color made him recall an intense gaze and sexily tousled hair.

"Meaning you met someone else.” Damn, how did Jess do that? Perceptive didn't do her justice, she was downright uncanny.

She clearly took his silence as an admission. "Well, if you've found someone who you feel really connected to, you should have invited them to the wedding."

Dean could almost feel Cas' note burning into his thigh through his jeans pocket. 

"Maybe I should've," he answered quietly. And then even more quietly: "maybe I will." He didn't think Jess had heard, but she smiled and looked out the window for the remainder of the journey when Sam moved the conversation on to a new topic.

~

Finally, they pulled into the driveway of the sprawling bungalow and Dean got out of the car. He was immediately set upon by the ‘girls’; Sammy’s Labradors; the golden Bela, and chocolate Ruby. 

“Who are my favorite doggy nieces?!” Dean greeted the two dogs eagerly, accepting licks and wuffles as they jumped up on him excitedly.

“At least _they_ think you smell good.” Sam shook his head at the scene. “You know they’re really not allowed to get up in your face like that.” He pointed towards the backdoor, using his firm voice to get the dogs’ attention. “Inside. Go on. Come on in too, Dean, let’s get you settled.”

“I’m going to have to love and leave ya, Bro.” Jess had already changed outfits and was gathering up her purse and keys. “I have to do the final dress fitting with my Maid of Honor, but I’ll see you boys at the rehearsal dinner. Right?” She went up on tiptoes to kiss Sam on the cheek and headed for the door. “Get freshened up, Dean, and maybe make a phone call?” She whispered the second part of the sentence as she brushed a kiss to his cheek before grinning at them both and leaving.

"I am so damn lucky." Sam shook his head slightly disbelievingly. "Come on, let's get you settled." He beckoned for Dean to follow him back to the guest room. 

“There’s clean towels in there, and I think you’ll appreciate the updates to the bathroom since you were last here.” He grinned broadly, knowing only too well how his brother appreciated a good shower. “I’ll leave you to it, but we need to head out again in about forty minutes, so don’t go too crazy.”

“I can shower fast."

“Uh huh.” Sam raised one eyebrow, but it was gone before Dean had time to argue.

Dean set his duffle on the bed and dug through to find a change of clothes. He laid them out on the bed and began to pull off his shirt and jeans soiled by the sweat of the long journey. He was about to slip out of his briefs when he noticed the folded paper that had fluttered free from its nest in his jeans pocket. He picked it up carefully, holding it carefully in his palm as he would a small animal.

Where was Cas now? Did he have plans for the evening? Dean couldn’t help imagining the two of them side by side at the reception dinner, Cas laughing and chatting with his family. It made his stomach feel funny. 

_You should have invited them._ Jess' words came back to him. And without really realizing it he had reached for his phone and was now staring at the number on the bottom of the note, recognizing the Austin area code.

Really what did he have to lose? Cas probably wouldn’t pick up. Or would give an excuse and say he was busy. Or maybe, just maybe…

Dean dialled the number.

It rang twice. “Hello, this is Castiel.”

Dean basked in the sound of the gravelly voice for a moment, almost forgetting to speak.

“Hi Cas, it’s-“

“Hello, Dean.” He sounded like he was smiling. If it was even possible to hear a smile, Dean wasn’t sure if it was.

“Dean, I wanted to say–”

“Um, Cas, would you like to be my plus one for Sammy’s wedding?” Dean hadn’t really meant to blurt that out, but there it was, and he wasn’t the least sorry. Just a little nervous as he waited for Cas’ answer, which was kind of a long time in coming.

“Cas?”

“Sorry, you took me by surprise. But you really don’t need to do this, Dean. I very much enjoyed our time together on the flight, but it doesn’t need to go any further than that if you didn’t feel like there was a connection. You’re certainly not obligated to me in any way.”

“No, no! It’s not guilt or anything, though I am sorry about what happened after. No, it was more that I _did_ feel like we’d connected, you know, and I thought, maybe…” He let the sentence trail off.

“I’d… Yes. Yes, I’d like that very much. Your brother won’t mind?”

Dean let out the breath he’d been holding. “Nah, trust me, he’ll only have eyes for Jess. But anyways, he’ll love you, as long as I d– ... So you’ll come?” Now he was kind of glad that Cas couldn’t hear his big sappy grin over the phone. Er, or see him sitting talking in just his boxer briefs, for that matter.

“Yes. How…. where…?” Cas’ flustered response made Dean grin even wider, if that was possible.

“Actually, do you have plans tonight? The rehearsal dinner is at 7:30, and it seems appropriate for the Best Man to have a date.” Hey, why not, he’d already jumped in head first, and now that they were talking Dean wanted to see Cas again as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry, Dean. Tonight I have plans to have dinner with my ex.” 

Dean bristled at the mention of an ex, but Cas did sound genuinely sorry to not be able to make it, so maybe it wasn’t just an empty excuse and he was actually catching up with a long-ago flame. 

“Oh, he lives nearby?”

“Yes, Meg lives in the City. She usually lets me use her apartment whenever I have a layover in the Bay Area. Tonight she happens to be between flights too, so we’d planned to have dinner together.” 

Dean tried not to feel jealous or read too much into Cas’ airy tone. 

“However, I am now free for the rest of the weekend seeing I am no longer scheduled on the return flight to Austin, so accompanying you to your brother’s– Sam’s wedding would be delightful.”

“Oh, Cas. I’m so sorry you lost your job.”.

“Actually I haven’t. Not yet, at least. Naomi did go straight to the office to file the complaint and ordered my immediate suspension, but it’s my word against hers so they can’t dismiss me outright without a disciplinary hearing.” Cas paused, then added thoughtfully, “it would be an entirely different situation if a passenger had filed the grievance”.

“Ha, far from it. I have no complaint whatsoever. Hey, does that mean it might help if I told them you were just helping me out, uh, I mean helping me deal with my fear of flying?”

“It might."

“Okay, well, Sammy has a crazy-ass morning scheduled for me, but I can text you the address of the church so you can just come straight to the ceremony in the afternoon. It starts at three o’clock.”

“I very much look forward to seeing you then.”

“Likewise. Have a good dinner with your friend.” Dean tried to keep from sounding jealous as he said it.

“Thank you. I hope your evening is enjoyable too. Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye, Cas.”

Dean looked down at the phone, thrilled by what he’d just done, but immediately startled out of his reverie. Shit, they were supposed to leave in fifteen minutes and he still hadn’t showered. He threw the phone down, shimmied out of his underwear and headed through to the en suite bathroom. Sam hadn’t been kidding about the improvements. The old tub shower combo was gone, replaced by a stylish looking walk in shower.

As he stood under the impressive jets of hot water, Dean replayed the phone conversation in his head, smiling. He was going to get to see Cas again. Maybe not tonight, but it was less than twenty-four hours till he would. And that was a very good thing.


	7. Friday, 11:20 P.M. (PST)

Dean flopped down on the California King that Sammy insisted was necessary even in a guest bedroom. It had been a seriously long day and he was dead tired, not to mention seriously stuffed. The food had been amazing. 

He smiled at the memory of the evening. The rehearsal itself had been fairly dull. Dean had fidgeted in place while the minister did her thing. Watching Sam and Jess moon at each other across the aisle was kind of adorable though, and Dean couldn't help but smile as they'd giggled and messed up while trying to remember their vows. He’d pantomimed handing Sammy the ring at the appropriate point in the ceremony, and felt himself panic a little at losing the damn things tomorrow.

Fortunately, they’d not spent long at the church, and Bobby and their mom were already waiting at the restaurant. Bobby had greeted Dean stoically with a manly hug, and Mary had been bursting with joy at getting to see her two boys together again. She’d begun questioning Dean about his journey and Brandon's absence almost immediately. 

“Sweetie, you’re terrified of planes. And weren’t you were going to drive over with your boyfriend? What’s his name?” Mary had been accepting of Dean’s fluid sexuality from the beginning, and he knew she was desperate for him to find the kind of happiness Sammy had found with Jess. He wasn’t looking forward to disappointing her all over again.

“We broke up, Mom. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but he was clearly pissed because he screwed up Baby…”

“Language, Dean!” 

He rolled his eyes at his mom, who could swear a mean streak herself when provoked, but continued with more restrained vocabulary. “I didn’t discover she wouldn’t start until it was too late to do anything about it. I wasn’t going to miss Sammy’s wedding for the world, obviously, so I flew.” Dean shrugged, as if it had been nothing at all, and realizing that in some ways it hadn’t really.

“Well I’m sorry to hear about your breakup, but proud of you for facing your fear of flying, Dean.” Mary smiled at him, but her brow was still creased with concern. “You okay?”

Dean couldn’t repress the smile that crinkled his eyes. “Actually, yes, I am. A really great guy helped me through it, Mom.” He couldn’t hide the happiness in his voice. “Actually, you’ll get to meet him tomorrow. I asked him to come to the wedding with me.” Maybe he wouldn’t have to disappoint his mom after all.

“But Dean, you only just met this man,” said Mary, confused. “You’re bringing him to your brother’s wedding?”

“It just felt right,” Dean confessed, “I think you’ll understand when you meet him. You’ll like him”.

The topic of conversation had moved away from Cas and on to the wedding in general, and the rest of the evening had slipped pleasantly by. But now Dean couldn’t help but wonder if Mary _would_ like Cas. Would Sam and Jess for that matter? He probably should have double checked with them if it was okay to invite him before actually doing it, especially Sam. He hadn’t really been thinking straight when he’d talked to Cas. He’d barely been thinking at all, truth be told, just going on instinct and acting like a mad fool.

Anyway, Jess had practically forced him into it, so she could deal with Sammy if he got pissy. And they would absolutely like Cas, he reassured himself. What was not to like? But how should Dean introduce him to his friends and family? His mom had already been taken aback by the admission that they’d really only just met. Saying Cas was his ‘friend’ failed to convey an atom of what he had already begun to feel for the guy, but it seemed presumptuous to introduce him as a ‘boyfriend’. And if he just referred to Cas as his ‘date’, then it sounded like Dean was paying the guy to be there with him. Nothing seemed to fit, and he found himself fretting all over again. He needed to sleep. God knew it was going to be another full day tomorrow, but his brain just couldn’t seem to shut off. He kept worrying about what it would be like seeing Cas in a different setting. What he’d think of Dean’s family. 

His phone said it was gone eleven. Would Cas still be awake?

Dean navigated to the Messages app and tapped out a question.

[Dean] _Hope I didn’t wake you?_

The phone buzzed almost immediately with a response.

[Cas] _Not at all, we just got in. Need to talk?_

Was he that obvious? Dean began to type a reply, only to be interrupted by the phone buzzing with an incoming call. From Cas.

“Hello again.” 

“Hello, Dean. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous of me to call. I was actually thinking about tomorrow and realized there were some things I needed to ask you.”

Dean laughed, feeling instantly less nervous. “I kinda had some questions for you too. Shoot: you first.” 

Cas coughed slightly on the other end of the line. “Well, I never asked what sort of wedding this is going to be. I mean, how formally should I be dressed? Plus I know it’s customary to bring a gift, but I don’t know where your brother is registered. Presumably I should say I’m part of the Groom’s party?”

“Woah, woah, Cas. Slow down. You’re over thinking things.” Yeah, like Dean hadn’t been doing just that. “I’m sure whatever you wear will be just fine. It is a church wedding, but it’s one of those funky modern ones, accepting of all God’s creatures and that. I gotta wear the full get-up as Best Man, but as long as you don’t show up in jeans and sneakers you can wear whatever you like. And no one is bringing a gift, at least that’s what Jess and Sammy requested. They want everyone to donate to some or other charity instead. I’ll let them bore you with the specifics.” 

Cas exhaled audibly. “That is a relief, Dean, I have to say. What was your question?”

Oh. Dean had conveniently forgotten that he’d wanted to ask something too. “Well, it was more… My family knows about me, ’course. Liking guys as well as girls, I mean. It’s just… I haven’t… I never really introduced them to anyone before, you know? There was never anyone I ever really wanted them to meet.”

“Then I am flattered that you asked me to be there with you,” Cas said simply. “Although that wasn’t really a question.”

“No, I guess not. So, I mean, how should I introduce you? We kinda just met, after all.” 

“Whatever feels comfortable for you, Dean. I appreciate the invitation, whether it’s to accompany you as a friend, or as your date.”

“Date. Definitely, date.” Dean let out the breath he had unconsciously been holding. “Thanks, Cas. That means a lot to me. You don’t mind, right? The date thing. But also me calling you Cas? It sort of happened by accident at first, but it suits you - more direct - and you never said anything, so…” 

“I like it. Both. The date and the name. It’s certainly better than any other nickname I’ve been given. Anna and Balthazar insist on using my childhood moniker, Cassie, which I am not fond of. And Meg likes to call me Clarence. It was a joke she shared with another flight attendant when we all started working together on United. It doesn’t bother me, but it never made much sense, even back then. Cas, well you’re right, it fits.”

Dean laughed. “Clarence is pretty random, man. Did you guys have a good time tonight?” He couldn’t help asking.

“We went to a wonderful restaurant round the corner from Meg’s apartment. I confess to having overindulged somewhat. How was the rehearsal?”

“Short, thankfully. But the food was great and it was really good to see my Uncle Bobby and my Mom. She quizzed me about the flight, so of course I had to tell her about you.” Dean admitted.

“Is everyone staying there at the house with you?”

“Oh hell no, Jess and Sammy’s place ain’t that big. Nah, Mom and Bobby got themselves rooms at the hotel where the reception is being held, along with Jess’s parents. It’s just me here. And tomorrow Sam and Jess’ll be gone too, off to Spain.” It didn’t seem appropriate to suggest that maybe Cas could join him here too.

“Would it be too forward to ask if there might be space for me to stay over? I could probably get a cab back to the city after the reception, but I’m uncertain what time to schedule it for and–”

“No. Yeah. I mean, absolutely. You should stay here. I know Sammy wouldn’t mind at all and it’s not like there won’t be space.” He hoped he didn’t sound too eager.

“Thank you, Dean. That takes a weight off of my mind. I should probably let you get some rest.”

“Yeah, same. Thanks for phoning. I feel a whole lot better.”

“As do I. Thank you, Dean. Goodnight.”

“Night, Cas.”

Dean thought it would take him a while to sleep after they'd disconnected. But whether it was the strains of the day or the time difference, Dean found himself falling asleep almost as soon as he’d turned out the light. He dreamed of blue eyes, messy, dark hair entangled in his fingers and slept deeply with an unconscious smile on his lips.


	8. Saturday, 5:00 A.M. (PST)

Dean came to slowly, feeling deliciously rested but with a savage case of morning wood. His first instinct was to take the matter in hand, dreams of Cas still tangible in the muted morning light. But thinking about Cas led to him anticipating what it would be like to see him again, unfortunately triggering a chain of thoughts leading exactly to where Dean was and why. He sighed and leaned across to flick on the light beside the bed. His cell phone told him it was disgustingly early by Californian standards, but it was already later than the time he typically woke up at home in Texas, so he felt ready to get on with his day. 

By way of a compromise, he decided to start working on his best man speech, typing notes into his phone as he mentally composed the words he wanted to share with Sam and Jess. Dean actually found the process pretty enjoyable, having plenty to embarrass Sammy with, and nothing but praise and respect for his soon to be sister-in-law. They really were a great couple. 

After making detailed notes and going over the general feel of the piece several times in his head, Dean felt like he’d got it about right. He closed the note app on his phone and was surprised to find that he’d manage to spend a full hour working in bed, which had the added benefit of successfully managing his previous affliction. 

Although the sky was visibly lighter through the edge of the curtains now, it still felt too early to fully engage with the world. Dean checked his email and skimmed some social media sites, but was quickly distracted, his body humming with nervous energy, eager to move forward in time to when he was losing himself in the depths of those insanely blue eyes again. 

He should go for a run. It wasn’t his typical MO, but he thought the exercise would help with the restless energy, and something about the flight yesterday had left him eager to feel the pound of pavement against his feet. He pulled on the only clothes he had with him suitable for exercise and headed towards to kitchen to let himself out the back door.

Of course Sammy was up already and standing in the kitchen in his own work out gear. Dean had forgotten his brother’s peculiar love of early morning runs, but for once he was more than happy to indulge the kid. Sam was thrilled to take Dean with him, as apparently going jogging with two Labs was far easier when there wasn’t just one person to hold them. Sam and Ruby led the way taking a lovely route along the San Fransicquito creek, with Dean and Bela following not far behind. 

He let his mind wander as his feet struck the pavement in a satisfying rhythm. He was really happy Sam had found the life, and the partner he’d always hoped to have. And hey, if they wanted to have a wedding to celebrate that, then Dean was damn well going to celebrate with them. He couldn’t help feeling that having Cas there was only going to make it all the more enjoyable, whatever his family might think about his choice of date. 

Dean mentally gave thanks for his Dad’s current posting in the Middle East preventing him from attending. As much as he’d always love his Dad, John Winchester, U.S. Marine, had certainly done his best to make his feelings known regarding both Sam and Dean’s ‘questionable’ life choices. He thought Jess’ family was ‘uppity’ and had butted proverbial heads with her on more than one occasion. Dean sometimes wondered if John would ever have been satisfied with their achievements, even if they had both gone into the military as he’d wanted. But Sammy had run off to Stanford, to study law of all things, and Dean had quickly realized that his sexual preferences would cause a whole world of pain in the military so opted for a career in law enforcement instead (not that his Dad believed working for the TPWD actually counted as ‘real police’). 

They’d been out for an hour and the day was still fairly cool, yet Dean was dripping with sweat by the time they got back to the house. Sammy had set a stiff pace, plus he had those stupid long moose legs, forcing Dean to work hard to keep up with his little brother. 

Sam laughed at him. “Fine, you go hit the shower and I’ll hose off the girls.”

Dean gratefully left him to deal with the dogs and found Jess in the kitchen finishing breakfast, clearly getting ready to go out.

“Okay, admittedly, I smell gross again, but I don’t want to drive you out of your own house.”

“Oh Dean! You have no idea how much I’d rather stay and hang out with you guys, but Becks lined up a full morning of pampering before the bridal preparations.”

“I am not even going to think about what that might entail.” He grinned suggestively at her and was rewarded with a swat on the butt as Jess headed to the door. “Seriously though, have fun,” he called after her.

“Will do.” She opted to blow him a kiss, wanting to avoid the salt water glistening on his - well, everywhere, really - and hurried out to say bye to Sam. Dean smiled after her and headed for the shower.

~

Less than an hour later he was being hustled out the door by Sammy, who informed him that their appointment at the clothier was at nine, and that Saturday traffic could be surprising. The only surprising thing, as far as Dean was concerned, was that Sam had absolutely failed to make plans for breakfast. After some cajoling, he managed to persuade Sam to stop at a coffee shop where Dean grabbed a sausage and egg sandwich– the only substantial thing there– while Sam bought a granola bar. 

They arrived at the clothier in good time and almost an hour a half later Dean was glad he’d insisted on the breakfast stop. It took them forever to try on the suits, be shown how to tie the fancy silk neckties just so, how to fold and set the matching kerchief, and have the hems sewn to just the right length. As ridiculous and fussy as Dean found the whole process, he couldn’t help feeling pleased with how he eventually looked in his tux. And yes, so maybe he also imagined how Cas might react to seeing him in it. He wondered what Cas had decided to wear and realized he’d never actually seen the man in anything but his flight attendant uniform. Which made him remember also seeing him not completely wearing his flight attendant uniform. He’d just begun to let his imagination play a rather shameless game of (un)dress-up with a Cas doll when Sam was in his face.

“Dean? We’re done.” He was gathering up the clothing bags and holding the door open for Dean.

“Okay, Sammy. Where to next?” He wished he hadn’t asked when the car stopped outside a rather fancy looking salon. “Hell, Sam. You gotta be kidding me.” Although he usually did get his haircut at a salon, it’s only because Timpson didn’t have another option, and Dean secretly loved the feeling of having his head massaged by the stylist before the clippers came out.

“Absolutely serious. Mom made me promise that I’d drag you with me.”

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother.

“I think her exact words were “don’t let him look like a woodsman for the wedding”.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll do it.”

Of course, Sammy’s luscious sable locks required far more care than his close-cropped style, leaving Dean thoroughly bored after half an hour. He was already looking far more groomed than he’s been in years and it looked like the man working on Sam had barely started. He was still having various sections snipped and shaped when Dean pulled out his phone.

[Dean] _Just got shorn and shaved. All this wedding prep’s a bit too full on for me._

Dean’s phone buzzed in response almost immediately.

[Cas] _I hope you got the full back, sack and crack treatment._

Dean stifled a laugh and could feel his ears turning red.

[Dean] _That a real thing?_

The phone buzzed again.

[Cas] _Absolutely. Though I’ve always thought shaved testicles look rather too like poultry to actually be attractive._

[Dean] _Good thing I stuck with just the regular cut and shave up top then._

This time there was no reply. Which was fine, he knew that Cas was busy spending time with his friend. He idly leafed through the magazines in the waiting area. One exclusive interview with the star of his favorite soap later, Dean noticed that Sammy’s blow dry was finally in full swing, signalling a blessed end to the madness. He watched his little brother’s hair fly wildly beneath the dryer and worried that maybe he’d scared Cas off with the texts. Although it had been Cas who’d brought up the back, sack and crack thing. He wanted to text him again, but definitely didn’t want to appear too needy? Desperate? Keen? God, he was all those things for Cas. It was actually a relief when his game of gazing longingly at his phone was interrupted by a freshly coiffured Sammy looming over him.

“Ready?” 

“Sammy, I’ve been ready for a friggin’ hour. How long do you think it takes a normal person to have a hair cut?” 

“Jerk.”

“Whatever, Bitch. Let’s go.”

Of course heading straight back to the house was wishful thinking, although at least the jewellers’ was only a few minutes drive and Dean didn’t even have to get out the car for that stop. He admired the rings they’d picked out, only a little alarmed that Sammy insisted they were now his responsibility until the ceremony. At least the weight of the rings in his pocket was something of a distraction from thinking about why Cas still hadn’t replied to his text message. As if hearing a prayer, Dean’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, just as they were pulling back into Sam’s driveway.

[Cas] _Sorry. No signal in the subway, and then Meg commandeered my full attention. It’s best to give her what she wants._

Dean didn’t really know how to respond to that. Thoughts of some faceless woman’s lips on Cas’, her painted nails scratching across his stubbled jaw, made Dean hunch resentfully. No, he wasn’t going to be that guy. Cas has said she was an ex and he was sure they were just friends now. He could be a grown up about it. It wasn’t as if he could lay any real claim on Cas anyway, as much as he’d like to. In the end he simply wrote back:

[Dean] _It’s fine, Sammy’s been keeping me busy._

[Cas] _I can only imagine. How’s he holding up?_

[Dean] _Amazingly, actually. I’m the one in a nervous sweat about losing the rings and stuttering through my Best Man speech._

[Cas] _You’ll be great. Gotta go. Meg’s yelling at me about something._

[Dean] _See you later. I’ll reserve you a spot in the front row so you get a good view. ;-)_

[Cas] _:-p_

Dean felt slightly better after the exchange. It was slightly ridiculous what two punctuation marks and a lowercase P could do to lift his spirits, but there it was. He'd meant what he said about Sam coping, but putting his phone away again he noticed Sammy was pacing around the kitchen opening and closing cabinets and muttering. 

“Hey, sit down, will ya. You’re giving me a headache,” Dean told his brother while simultaneously taking over opening and closing the cabinets.

“I should probably eat. You know, I won’t have time at the reception. All I’ve had is coffee and the granola bar.”

His brother looked like the eleven-year-old kid he’d dropped off on his first day of middle school again. “Everything’s going to be fine, Sammy. It’s all in order. I’m gonna fix you a sandwich and then we’ll go get ourselves all dressed up. Okay?” He still looked like a puppy that someone had just dropped off at the pound. “Hey, why don’t you go feed the girls while I finish up here. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

When Sam returned, Dean practically had to force him to eat the turkey salad sandwich he’d made. No sooner had Sam finished half a sandwich (although technically he did eat the filling from the second half, he’d just rejected the bread) he was up and off into his room to start getting ready, muttering, once again.. Dean could only catch snippets but he was pretty sure Sammy was just reciting his vows over and over again under his breath. He tidied the lunch things away, and despite having a clear hour before they were supposed to leave for the church, he too headed to his room. He’d kill time under the pressure of steaming water jets and wash away the stray shaves of hair beneath his collar before he changed into his own wedding clothes.

After the rush of the morning making stop after stop and climbing in and out of the car, it felt good to slow down. Dean took his time in the shower, happily singing snippets of Zeppelin songs while he relaxed under the stream of hot water. He tried to imagine where Cas was in the process of getting ready, picturing him knotting a silk tie, or maybe a bowtie. Rather than letting himself take any fantasies of Cas further, he used the anticipation of finding out what neckwear it would be to spur him into finishing getting ready.

Damn, this outfit was complicated without someone talking him through it. He studied his reflection in the mirror and tried to remember what the clothier had told him. Yeah, that looked about right. Damn, Jess and Sammy had really picked well. He was fully dressed in the charcoal three-piece suit, accented with dark green accessories just as the clothier had prescribed. He looked good. 

_You clean up okay, Winchester. Not bad at all._ Hopefully Sammy would be proud of him, and his Mom too. Holy shit, this was really happening. He was about to be Best Man at his little brother’s wedding. He would accept this responsibly, throw himself into it and give it his all. It was similar to how he felt whenever he clipped the silver and blue Warden’s badge onto his khaki work uniform. He was suited up appropriately,ready to do his best. Although, he’d be the first to admit he looked a hell of a lot more appealing in this wedding get up, even if he felt way more uncomfortable. He double checked that both rings were tucked carefully into his inside pocket next to his speech and heading back into the kitchen, he found Sammy hunched over the counter scribbling on a notepad. On noticing Dean, he immediately started in on all the instructions Dean needed to relay to the dog sitters the next day. 

“Woah, Sammy. It’s good, man. You emailed me all this like a month ago, and I have it all saved. I’ll let this Crowley guy know exactly what Bela and Ruby need” Dean said, trying to reassure his brother.

Sam stood up to his full height, and Dean went over to smooth out his brother’s waistcoat. It was the same green silk as the tie Dean wore. 

“You done good, kid. You done good.” Dean pulled him into a hug, patting a rather rigid Sam on the shoulder as he did so. “I’m so proud of you, Sammy.”

“No chick flick moments, remember, Dean.” Sam laughed a little shakily.

“Oh, I think there are going to be plenty of chick flick moments coming up, Sam. And I’m going to enjoy watching every single one of ‘em.”

Bobby arrived a few minutes later in the classic Cadillac which would take them to the church. The car was beautiful and Dean found himself more than a little disappointed the church was so close to Sam’s house as he’d happily have taken a much longer drive. It was always a passion he and Bobby had shared, along with one of the few subjects he could really connect with Dad on. But this was Sammy’s day and the car was simply part of the show.

All too soon they were being set up in the churchyard to meet with the endless guests who had started to arrive. Some of them Dean knew and greeted warmly - friends of Sam and Jess he’d met over the years, but most of the people were unknown to him, and soon it felt like he’d simply moulded his features into a smile and they’d solidified in the warmth of the summer afternoon. He nodded politely to arriving attendees, but all the while scanned the street beyond the grounds of the modern church for a glimpse of Cas.


	9. Saturday, 2:55 P.M. (PST)

There was still no sign of Cas, and the ushers were urging Sam and Dean into the Church to take their places before the arrival of the bridal party. Dean checked the time and looked nervously up and down the street one last time before finally, reluctantly, heading inside the church to take his place up front beside Sammy.

The guests were starting to settle and chatter had quieted to a pleasant hum in anticipation of Jess’ arrival, the pianists elegant playing in the background a pleasant counterpoint. Sammy stood stoically at the front of the church, seemingly not hearing any of it, his eyes fixed on the entrance. Dean glanced from the entrance to the church’s ornate clock as he shuffled from foot to foot. It was mere minutes before three and Jess would be arriving any moment. 

Where the fuck was he? He wasn’t coming. Cas was probably sprawled naked with Meg in a haze of post-coital bliss at this very second; having forgotten all about attending a wedding with some random guy he served drinks to on a flight. Dean felt slightly sick.

Sure, he’d been stood up before—not often— but it had happened, and it always felt bad. That realization that you weren’t good enough. That you’d misread the signs. That you weren’t what they’d wanted. Probably weren’t what anyone would want. He shouldn’t have let himself imagine that he and Cas had something more.

He was pulled out of his brooding and back to reality by the murmur of the gathered crowd changing in tone to an excited buzz, and shift their collective focus to the entrance of the church. Sam, Dean and the entire congregation turned expectantly, looking for the bride. They were instantly disappointed by the sight of a slightly mussed, dark-haired man with searching blue eyes hurrying down the aisle instead. 

Except for Dean. Dean’s heart seemed to have stopped altogether. He was frozen in the moment, watching the man in the pale grey suit walk through the church, the blue of his tie making his eyes sparkle even more than usual. But most of all he watched the lilting smile that slowly appeared when Cas’ gaze finally met his own. Holy Christ, the man was exquisite. Dean gulped in a lungful of air and willed himself to stay beside Sam rather than dive straight for Cas. He settled for returning the smile, his tongue reflexively darting out to wet his lips as he did so.

Fortunately, it was at that moment that the piano music changed, the pianist definitively playing the opening bars of the processional music. Jess had forced him and Sam to listen to hundreds of (well, it may have been only ten) classical pieces, getting their opinions on each. Finally they’d all agreed on this, Patchy, something or other. In D, for Dean, he remembered as Jess appeared at the far end of the aisle. He thought maybe he’d like it even better if it was in C, for Castiel.

Jess looked stunning in what looked to Dean like a longer version of the iconic dress Marilyn Monroe had worn in the Seven Year Itch. He’d seen Jess dressed up for work, and for Holiday parties and she always looked good, but this was different. Sam was completely transfixed beside him, looking like he was the luckiest man alive. Damn, Dean felt pretty lucky himself, glancing again at Cas, who chose that precise moment to turn around and catch him staring. Their eyes immediately locked and both smiled rather shyly at one another. Yup, definitely lucky.

Jess was now level with Sam and the music came to an end. The minister took her place between the couple and welcomed everyone. Dean had to force himself to tear his gaze away from Cas and face the front. 

“Friends and family, thank you for joining us this afternoon to celebrate the union of Samuel and Jessica…” Dean’s attention was already drifting. He couldn’t resist turning to sneak another look at Cas, who instantly gave him a disapproving raise of his eyebrows. Sure, sure, Dean was supposed to be focused on the ceremony, but God was it hard when every time he chanced a glance behind he was instantly met with a sexily stern blue gaze. He found that by turning his body slightly sideways so he was facing Sammy, he could look like he was totally focused on what the minister was saying, but actually be watching Cas in his peripheral vision.

All his earlier nerves evaporated as he listened to Jess and his brother saying their vows. It seemed all the muttering in the kitchen had paid off because now Sam was eloquently telling Jess how and why he would always love her. Dean would fervently deny there had been tears in his eyes hearing Sammy’s words, instinctively looking over at Cas and holding his gaze as words of love were exchanged besides him. He did manage to produce the rings at the appropriate moment, despite his lack of focus, and handed them to Sam on cue without even needing to be prompted. He beamed with pride at Cas who smiled back indulgently. Maybe this wedding stuff wasn’t quite as bad as he’d thought it’d be.

Finally, the Minister told Jess that she could kiss the Groom – a nice touch, Dean thought, considering it was Jess who’d proposed to Sam. Dean blushed slightly to see his kid brother basically making out in public. They were presented to the congregation as husband and wife and began their walk back through the church toward the sun streaming in through the open doors. Dean turned to follow them but had to be elbowed by Becky, Jess’ maid of honor, as he went to reach for Cas. He’d all but forgotten there was anyone else in the wedding party, but dutifully clasped Becky’s arm instead and threw a longing look back at Cas as he found himself escorted out smartly behind Sam and Jess. 

Outside the wedding party were forced to pose for a seemingly endless number of photographs, which Dean would have normally found excruciating. Today, however, he was genuinely beaming in every shot, watching Cas out the corner of his eye: chatting with his Mom and Bobby, or just standing patiently smiling serenely back at Dean, who of course had to go and blush under the attention. Finally, the photographer released everyone but the newly-weds, and he was free to go to Cas at last. Now that a proper reunion was granted to them, Dean felt nervous all over again. He walked over to where the other man stood and rather than speaking, leaned in to kiss Cas shyly on the cheek by way of a greeting. Cas looked unimpressed with the gesture, but his eyebrows quirked up along with the corners of his mouth, giving Dean courage. 

“I thought you might have changed your mind about coming”, he confessed quietly, “or that you’d rediscovered Meg was more to your taste.”

Cas reached for his hand and laced their fingers together, pulling Dean closer. “And miss a half hour of watching your ass in those pants? Don’t think for a moment that it distracted me from your lack of focus in the church though.”

Dean swallowed tightly at the admonishment but noted the mischievous twinkle in Cas’ eye. Dean was discovering a whole new side of him, a side that he would very much like to see more of. He brought their conjoined hands up to kiss Cas’ knuckles. “Maybe you could give me some pointers on staying focused some time then.”

Cas nodded. “I think that could be arranged.” 

The intensity of his gaze made Dean fidget. “Well, I’m really glad you made it.”

“In all seriousness, the traffic out of the City was impossible, and then the cab driver got lost. I’m not sure he was used to driving this far south.” Cas squeezed his hand reassuringly and they were lost in each other’s eyes again momentarily until Mary appeared at Dean’s side.

“Dean?” Her silent request was unmissable. Dean instantly froze, realising he still had no idea how he should introduce the man who was currently stroking a thumb lazily up and down his own. He hadn’t even had a chance to ask for Cas’ last name yet. The badge on his crew uniform had simply said Castiel. Maybe he could just tell his Mom how many languages Cas spoke by way of recommendation.

“Er, Mom, this is Cas, uh, Castiel, uh, my… Uh…” Oh god, this was too complicated. “A complete angel. Who took me under his wing and helped me manage my fear of flying. You basically have him to thank for my being here.” Dean smiled broadly at his quick thinking.

“And Cas, this is my Mom, Mary Winchester”. 

“Actually, we already met, darling.” Mary broke his reverie. “Castiel was telling me about how you two met.”

“What, on the plane?” He hadn’t told her about the bathroom, surely.

“He said you worked through some severe anxiety in order to be here with Sam. He was glad to provide you with moral support.” She looked proudly at them both.

“Oh. Yes, moral support.” Dean breathed normally again and smiled across at Cas. “I was lucky he was close by when it got intense.” 

Cas reached forward to shake Mary’s hand and neatly changed the subject. “It was a delightful ceremony, Mrs. Winchester. You must be absolutely thrilled for Sam.”

Yup. Dean was beyond lucky to have this kind, funny, handsome man beside him, teasing him, and charming the socks off his family. Any awkwardness he’d worried about introducing Cas evaporated and it was simply the two of them socializing with Sam and Jess’ family and friends, their fingers laced and palms pressed together. There was no need to explain how it had happened, what it was, or where it might lead.

“My last name is Novak”, Cas whispered in his ear as Dean climbed into the car waiting to take them to the reception, “just in case it comes up.” He cupped Dean’s ass surreptitiously, as he pretended to give Dean a boost into the minivan. So, very, very lucky.


	10. Saturday, 5:20 P.M. (PST)

They were, of course, seated at the head table, with Dean beside Sam, and Cas between him and Mary. Dean was thrilled at just how well Cas seemed to be getting on with his mom, and even with Bobby who was leaning across to join in with their conversation and laughing heartily as Cas regaled them with a story of a flight that had been hopelessly overbooked. Cas had, unsurprisingly, saved the day by somehow imbuing half a dozen or so passengers with extreme altruism so that they all desperately wanted one another to take their places on the flight. Dean smiled to himself picturing the scene, believing that if anyone could inspire random acts of kindness in complete strangers, it was definitely going to be Cas. It was then that he felt a hand beneath the table squeeze his thigh and begin to inscribe intricate designs on his inner thigh. This was going to be a really long dinner.

Fortunately, the food was incredible and provided enough of a distraction for Cas that he paused his covert torture for the duration of the meal. Dean was still in trouble though, every time he noticed the way those pink chapped lips looked sliding over a fork or spoon. Nope, he wasn’t noticing that at all, and certainly not imagining that maybe it was his nipple rather than flatware being gently (or not so gently) scraped over by those straight, white teeth. 

The conversation in general was flowing freely, aided by the continually replenished supply of alcohol, and yet Dean didn’t really have anyone to chat to. Cas was earnestly listening to Mary talk about her work as a historian at the university, and Sammy had been required to leave the table in order to make the rounds with his wife (Sonuvabitch, his baby bro had a wife now!). He could have leaned across the Happy Couple’s empty chairs to speak with Becky, but she was giggling with Jess’ mom over something so he settled on picking at the label of his beer bottle. Of course, Sam had ensured that Dean was served beer with his meal rather than the red or white wine offered to the other guests because, when he wasn’t being a nerdy, annoying, righteous little jerk, he was absolutely the best brother ever.

“Feeling left out?” Cas’ hand was suddenly back on his thigh, slowly massaging it.

“Just thinking about little Sammy all grown up. So maybe, yes? A little.” He said, trying to hide the higher pitch and breathy quality his voice had suddenly acquired.

“Well, at least you’re not drowning your sorrows. Or can you just not handle anything harder than a lager, Dean?”

He spluttered at the comment, only noticing the teasing glint in Cas’ eye as he reached beneath the table for the napkin in his lap. Cas took the opportunity to pull Dean’s hand across to him and settle it over his crotch.

Dean’s mouth was suddenly very dry, feeling Cas’ rock hard length pressed against his palm. He quickly resurfaced the hand, using it to dab at his mouth with the recovered napkin, before taking a much-needed draw of the aforementioned lager.

“Oh, I can definitely handle _it_ ”, he recovered, “but I typically prefer to indulge later in the evening. Need to stay sharp”. He met Cas’ gaze with a slight quirk of an eyebrow and the hint of a smirk.

Cas chuckled huskily, and Dean let himself smile fully as their thighs pressed together beneath the table. This time it was more with affection than desire. He couldn’t say how he knew the difference, but he felt in tune with Cas. It felt so right having him here beside Dean. Neither one of them was really eating or drinking all that much and Dean felt that all this was just an appetiser to a very different feast still to come. Cas must have sensed it too, as he backed off a bit after the lager jibe, knowing Dean still had to deliver a speech and do the formal dances. Dean hoped there wouldn’t be too many. If he was going to work up the courage to ask Cas to dance, he didn’t want to be sweaty and breathless already.

When the cake was announced all eyes turned to see the mountain of fondant covered sponge that was decorated with elegant sugar flowers. Dean cheered and clapped as Sam and Jess carefully cut into the lowest tier of the desert, impressed by their ability to perform the task without totally massacring the frosting, or toppling one of the smaller cakes balanced above. He was actually pretty excited for a piece, having had various conversations with Jess about selecting it. Sam had admitted that he didn’t care about the cake at all so Jess had been given free reign to do as she liked. He’d chosen some sort of death by chocolate cake. Dean figured it was as good a way to go as any. He grinned as he watched his new sister-in-law practically melt as Sam fed her the first fork-full. Everyone took their seats again as the wait staff brought around slices of cake and poured the champagne. This was Dean’s cue. His eyes drifted to Cas’ who smiled warmly at him and nodded in encouragement. Buoyed, he stood up and tapped his dessert fork against the newly filled champagne flute.

“If I could have everyone’s attention?” He waited for the chatter to subside, using the time to wipe his brow with the napkin from the table he was still clutching.

“Hello. Hi. For those of you I haven’t had a chance to meet yet this evening,” probably because he’d not bothered to socialize with anyone beyond Cas and his family, but oh well. Dean ploughed on, “I’m Dean Winchester, Sammy’s smaller, but older, brother. First off, thank you all so much for being with us tonight. I know some of you had significant journeys to get here,” hell, he sure had, “and I know it means a whole lot to Sam and Jess that you could make it. I’d like to start by thanking James and Susan Moore, Jessica’s parents, as well as my Mom, Mary Winchester. Not only have you guys welcomed us all here tonight, but you’ve done a heck of a job raising two incredible people. Course, with our Dad being stationed overseas for much of our childhood, I got to do my fair share of raising Sammy here too. Although I gotta say, that the kid probably taught me as much as I ever did him.” Dean smiled down at his brother, so proud of the man that Sam had become.

“It certainly didn’t take him long to become taller, smarter, and _way_ better at not messin’ up than me. I finally figured that one out when he was freshman at Stanford and still together with Jessica after a month.

But in all honesty, I always knew Sammy was special. That he would make someone a terrific husband one day. Sure, he can also be stubborn as a mule, is way too into his books, spends too long on his hair, and is freakishly tall– don’t tell me you haven’t gotten a crick in your neck making out, Jess.”

“Er, that’s why we do it lying down, Dean!” she called back at his jibe.

“But he’s loyal, caring, passionate in his beliefs, and can make a mean turkey sandwich. In Jess he’s found his equal– someone he can debate with, who will be as dedicated to him as he will be to her, who can respect his beliefs but has her own passions to share. And honestly, Jess’ sandwiches are just kinda okay, but she can make seriously sinful mac and cheese from scratch so as far as I’m concerned she had keeper status from the get-go.”

Dean couldn’t help but notice Cas rolling his eyes. He grinned and continued.

“Life isn’t apple pie all the time, of course. But I know you two have a partnership with trust, kindness and love that will see you through the hard times, as well as let you enjoy the good stuff to the fullest.” Dean’s voice was starting to crack with the emotion. He had to take a couple of deep breaths. “You guys got this. And I love you both so much.” He bent down to hug them both while the crowd applauded.

“I’m so happy for you both” he told them as they sandwiched him tightly.

“Thank you, Dean.” Jess smiled at him. “And I have to say, it’s pretty great seeing you look so happy too.” 

“Don’t think just because we’ve been completely absorbed ourselves that we haven’t noticed you and Castiel.” Sam elbowed him none too gently. “I’m really glad you brought him with you, Dean.” 

Jess nodded in agreement and took Sam’s hand. “Now go get back to him!” She shoved him away and turned her attention to her father who had just begun the next speech.

“That was wonderful, Dean. Well done.” Cas’ smile was warm, and Dean found himself smiling back happily, feeling rather than seeing Cas take his own and entwine their fingers. Cas didn’t let go through the rest of the speeches, so Dean ate his cake with his free–fortunately right–hand, until a pointed look made him offer a fork of the chocolate decadence to Cas. The other man closed his lips deliberately around the utensil, shutting his eyes as he chewed and swallowed.

“Tastes like… Molecules” he whispered to Dean, “chocolate isn't really my thing” Cas shrugged making Dean snort with laughter. He quickly turned it into a cough so as not to appear disrespectful during whoever’s speech this was.

Once everyone had said their piece, the emcee made her introduction and invited Sam and Jess to the dance floor. Dean was impressed at his moose of a younger brother, as he managed to gracefully negotiate their first dance. The music wasn’t even too terrible. Dean found himself unable to stop grinning again, especially when the first song ended and Sam pulled their Mom into his long arms while Jess danced with her father. Dean had forgotten that as best man, he was obliged to partner with Becky as maid of honor for this dance, but she appeared before him pulled him onto the dance floor before he had time to hesitate. 

He looked apologetically in Cas’ direction as Becky towed him around the room, but Cas didn’t look in the least bit perturbed sitting alone, his two neighbors at dinner both dancing. Instead he was devouring Dean with his eyes, as far as Dean could tell; trying to focus on Cas and the dance at the same time was something of a challenge. Becky changed their positions so that Dean was facing away from the tables, and was forced to concentrate on the dance. He tried to act like he knew what he was doing and enjoying himself, but was hugely relieved when the final bars of music played. As the song shifted into another, Dean felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find Cas smiling pleasantly at Becky. 

“May I cut in?” he asked.

Becky beamed, no doubt thrilled at the invitation to dance with another delectable male specimen, but before she could take Cas up on the offer, he had stepped in front of her to pull Dean to him. They slow danced away, leaving a sputtering and furious Becky in their wake.

Dean only vaguely registered the song– some sentimental Doo-wop thing that Sammy was probably into– as he and Cas swayed in time to the music.

“Your brother is a very lucky man”. Cas had lent his head in close to Dean’s ear to be heard over the music and didn’t pull away after he’d spoken.  
.  
“Yeah, I know. Jess is pretty much perfect for him. I seriously lucked out with my sister-in-law.” Dean chuckled, the movement bringing them fractionally closer together.

“Whilst I believe all that is true, it wasn’t what I was talking about. I meant that Sam’s lucky because he has you in his life. Has had you, for all these years. It’s insane for me to be jealous, but I can’t help it.” Cas’ voice was low and earnest vibrating against Dean’s cheek.

“You aren’t close to your siblings?” Dean asked.

“Not particularly,” came the response, “but you misunderstand me. I meant that Sam gets to call you, talk with you, visit with you, share happy memories with you, of you. Together.” Cas paused as the song ended and the next one began as they stayed pressed together.

Dean knew this one, he’d been to enough Karaoke nights to have heard Andy Williams’ classic butchered by more than one drunk and love-struck fool. Tonight he found himself singing silently along.

_Pardon the way that I stare, there’s nothing else to compare._  
The sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak.  
But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it’s real.  
You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. 

“I want that. What Sam has.”

Dean had been smiling into the crook of Cas’ neck but lifted his head in surprise at Cas’ words.

His expression must have revealed some confusion, because Cas hastily clarified, “To be together. To have the experiences Sam has. Well, not exactly the same experiences.”

“With me?”

“Yes, Dean. With you.”

Dean felt like the air in the room had all been sucked out because it was suddenly very difficult to breathe. He drew back from Cas a little to look into his eyes and was met with such honest hope and longing, along with a secret blue sparkle. Rather than respond to the admission, Dean moved his cheek back to rest against Cas’. “We only have to stay until Jess and Sammy leave for their honeymoon” he breathed.

He felt rather than heard Cas’ sigh of response, flush against each other as they were now. He basked in the feel of Cas’ lithe body against his own. The song began to speed up, and Cas shifted their positions so that he could spin Dean around the dance floor, their eyes remaining locked and wearing matching smiles.

The song ended and they returned quietly to the table as surreptitiously as possible, both masking the tightness across their suit pants. Dean was grateful for the low light and the low hanging table cloth when they were once seated again.

Cas was drawing patterns on Dean’s thigh when Dean suddenly grabbed his hand and stilled it.

“Shit, Cas, remember the candy guy I sat next to on the flight?”

“You were the one sitting with him, Dean. I was far to focussed on being the consummate professional and busy meeting my passengers diverse needs.” He smirked and Dean swatted him on the shoulder. 

“You know. The guy who wouldn’t turn off his damn iPad, Cas. That guy.”

“Oh yes, I vaguely remember the window seat next to you being occupied by some such.” The thigh doodles resumed as Cas relaxed back into the conversation.

“Well, how the hell does Sammy know him?” That got Cas’ full attention.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Over there, on the dance floor. He’s in the–”

“Is that suit gold?” Cas had clearly spotted the guy. “I think it rather suits him. The color looks incredible with his hair.”

“ _You_ look incredible.” Dean realised he hadn’t actually told Cas that yet.

“Meg forced me to go shopping.” Cas cringed at the memory. “That’s why it was so hard for me to respond to your text messages earlier.”

“Well, you did good.” Dean licked his lips approvingly.

“Actually it was all Meg. She “did good”.” Dean couldn’t help but adore that Cas felt it necessary to add air quotes.

“She picked out the suit, and the tie. Told me if only half the things I was telling her about you were true, then you warranted my forking out for a new suit, despite being on suspension,” Cas admitted.

“They don’t pay you while this gets sorted out?”

Cas laughed bitterly. “Actually, they only ever pay me for the time spent in the air. It just happens to be pretty decent money when I’m up there. And there are some other major perks, of course” he smirked as Dean’s eyebrows went up suspiciously, and clarified “Like free travel to some amazing places, and quite often food and accommodation while I’m there.”

“Still, that sucks”, Dean said.

“Well, at least I'll have a smart new suit if I have to have a disciplinary hearing.” Cas laughed humorlessly.

Dean took Cas’ hand in his own and squeezed it supportively.

“I’m going to write a full statement in your defence,” he stated vehemently, “we won’t let Naomi win.”

“But Dean, she’s correct. Every accusation she is levelling at me I am guilty of.”

“But it wasn’t just some random passenger,” Dean protested, “it was me.”

Cas smiled at him indulgently. “Whilst I certainly feel that we have something of a profound bond, it doesn't negate the fact that yesterday afternoon you _were_ just some random passenger.”

“Sonuvabitch.” Dean pouted. “I don’t want to cost you your job, Cas, and have you end up hating me for it.”

“Dean.” Cas smoothed Dean’s fingers with his own. “There will be other job opportunities, but there was only one _you_ opportunity. Plus I did genuinely think you were dying on my watch.” Cas’ eyes crinkled pleasantly as he smiled, and Dean couldn’t resist leaning in to trail soft kisses from those corners down to Cas’ lips.

Sam coughing drew them guiltily apart.

“Jess and I are just about ready to head out. She’s going to throw the bouquet” Sam announced.

Dean and Cas stood together by Sam and watched as Jess tossed the large bunch of flowers behind her. It was a great throw, of course; Jess had played JV basketball at Stanford and had been a clutch free-throw shooter. The bouquet arched high over the heads of the expectant crowd. Dean was still debating whether he should make a dive for it himself when an awkward looking woman with straight glossy red hair reached up and snagged it out of the air. 

“Nice catch.”

Dean thought he heard her mutter the words “trajectory” and “apex” as she retreated to bury her face against a slightly taller brunet woman in a strangely old fashioned outfit. She seemed much more comfortable receiving praise and an affectionate kiss for her sporting effort from her partner rather than from the small crowd she was receiving applause from. 

Sam laughed. “Shoulda known Charlie would get it, using her genius math skills. ” He gestured at the two women now smiling conspiratorially together over the bouquet. “Wouldn’t be surprised if they were the next to get hitched either.”

“Cute couple.” Dean smiled at the women’s obvious affection.

“Not as cute as us.” Cas pulled Dean against him, pressing a tantalising kiss to the taller man’s cheek.

Sam raised an eyebrow and smirked at his brother, who was apparently too stunned to notice.

“We’re a couple, now?” Dean moved to face Cas and looked questioningly into his summer blue eyes.

“I’d like us to be.”

Dean nodded, and happily let himself be pulled into Cas’ embrace to receive a second teasing kiss, this one to his lips. “Yeah, Cas. I’d like that too.”

“Well, bro.” Dean untangled himself from Cas at Sam’s words, hugging Sam and then Jess goodbye and wishing them a wonderful time in Spain. 

“Looks like we’re leaving you in high spirits, at least.” Sam turned to Cas, who proffered his hand to the younger Winchester. Sam laughed and pulled Cas in for a hug, completely smothering him in his long Sasquatchian arms.

A few more hugs and waves, and Sam and Jess led everyone outside to where Bobby stood beside the beautiful white Cadillac, now trailing cans and proclaiming “just married” across the back windshield. Sam and Jess climbed in and gave a final wave to the crowd who had followed them out. 

As the car disappeared from sight, Dean tugged at Cas’ hand. “Let’s split.” Cas nodded, and the two made a rapid round of goodbyes before escaping into the warm June night.


	11. Saturday, 9:40 P.M. (PST)

It was only a twenty-minute walk from the hotel back to Sam and Jess’ house, but it took closer to an hour with the pace Cas and Dean managed.

They’d raced through town, giddy to be free of the constraints of the wedding party and out in the freedom of the night. Once they’d crossed the bridge and were walking alongside the creek, the mood shifted. Dean found himself slammed against the trunk a madrone tree, Cas’ lips and teeth exploring the soft underside of his jaw and his hands roaming possessively over Dean’s torso. Pinned against the tree, Dean could only respond with a wanton groan, further fuelling the heat between them. It was more than Dean could bare.

“Cas- I need- let’s- Back at the house.” Cas nodded, releasing Dean’s body, and stepping back to put some physical distance between them. They would have to keep their hands to themselves in order to maintain a semblance of control.

Dean jerked his head in the direction they’d been heading and the two men continued walking along the edge of the secluded road. They hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards before Dean gave in to his desire, turning to reach for Cas’ tie, but upon grasping it, found himself being tugged in roughly by his lapels, slamming the two of them together. 

This kiss echoed their first, back on the plane; tongues warring as they attempted to consume each other’s mouths. Cas had one hand anchoring Dean by the collar of his suit jacket, the other clawing at the nape his neck. Likewise, Dean had a hand tangled in a mess of dark hair, while the other had Cas's blue tie that uncannily matched his eyes, wrapped around his fist, ensuring they remained locked together. Consumed by the taste and feel of each other, they barely noticed the headlights illuminating their tryst. It wasn’t until the passing car honked that they breathlessly pulled apart, laughing lustily and dragging each other along the once again quiet street.

Eventually they turned off the tree-lined road and were soon walking through the gates into Sam’s yard. Ruby and Bela came bounding out of the house to greet Dean with their customarily happy woofs and wags. Their welcome extended to Cas by association, and Dean let them all into the laundry room through the back door before setting out food for the two dogs. Cas observed Dean’s easy routine thoughtfully.

“You’re so good with animals.”

“It’s my job. Just gotta respect ‘em, but ultimately let them know you’re the Alpha of the pack.” He turned to grin at Cas but instead found himself pushed back against the washer. 

“Alpha, huh?” Cas brought his lips to suck deliciously hard along Dean’s collar bone, rapidly unbuttoning the dress shirt to reveal more skin, and stroked up the centre of Dean’s chest upon uncovering it. The exploration was halted by a questioning “ _wuff_ ’ from the yellow Lab, who had momentarily abandoned her chow. Dean reached down to reassuringly scratch her head, before she returned to her dinner, making Cas laugh.

“That’s Bela, the blonde. Sammy says she’s the smart one. Not to be underestimated. And he’s definitely made that mistake more than once.” He chuckled, remembering Sam’s tales of Bela’s escapes and food stealing. “But Ruby is his favourite,” Dean gestured to the chocolate lab, “She has him under her big bad doggy spell, don’t you my sweet girl. Yup. The kid just can’t say no to a pair of big brown eyes.” He scratched Ruby’s rump contemplatively. 

“Uh, Dean.” His head snapped back up to meet Cas’ eye. “I think it’s high time you asked me inside.” 

Dean’s mouth quirked up into a lopsided grin. “Then, by all means, let me show you around.” He ushered Cas into the kitchen closing the back door behind them and shedding his jacket on one of the high backed stools by the breakfast bar. 

Cas followed, eyes transfixed as Dean’s waistcoat was deposited on the linoleum floor as he backed into the hall, hopping as he untied his shoes and kicked them off to lie where they fell. Reaching the closed door of the guest bedroom, Dean paused to undo his belt buckle and slide the strap free. Cas, who was apparently done with waiting for Dean to play host, charged forward, smartly opening the door and driving Dean bodily into the bedroom. He propelled them into the bed, Dean’s knees folding as he hit the foot of it and pulling Cas down on top of him as they returned to kissing with abandon.

“Still too many clothes” Dean whined, as Cas released his lips to nibble along his jaw. 

“Mmmmm, I can definitely take care of that.” Cas began to deftly unknot the fancy satin necktie while continuing to pepper Dean’s face with kisses.

Dean reached down to finish the job on his shirt buttons that Cas had begun back in the laundry room, but Cas captured his hands and moved them up to rest above his head.

“Let me. Please, I want to.”

Dean nodded and watched the long strong fingers carefully pop each button free. Cas lowered his head and kissed every inch of skin as he exposed it. “Mmmm, so warm and smooth. I want to taste every inch of you.”

Dean chuckled. “Be my guest, got no place to go other than where you take me, Cas.”

Cas looked up and met his gaze. “So you don’t mind if we slow this down a little?”

“Sometimes the journey is as important as the destination. You drive, Cas.”

“Oh, Dean, such a gift.” Cas helped him to rise slightly as he pushed the unbuttoned dress shirt past Dean’s shoulders and down his arms, following its path with his mouth before pausing to pull it free and discard it on the floor. He took one of Dean’s hands, raised it to his lips, and began to kiss every finger, running his tongue between them, nibbling gently at the tips as he took each one into his mouth in turn, his lips lingering, slowly dragging over fingertips as he pulled off them. Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more erotic, and he had a pretty epic porn collection. He moaned in appreciation as Cas circled his palm with the tip of his tongue and then bit down on the pounding pulse point.

He travelled up Dean’s arm nipping and tonguing every muscle, mole and vein, forming a pattern of sensations that was making Dean dizzy with pleasure. “In some cultures they say freckles are gifts of the gods” Cas mused before biting into the flesh of Dean’s pectoral and sucking along a collar bone to reach the hollow of his neck. He lapped at the soft skin beneath the Adam’s Apple and moved across to the other side of Dean’s chest, beginning the whole routine in reverse. By the time Cas released the final finger from his mouth Dean was completely blissed out by the ministrations.

“You realize that you’re completely ruining me for anyone else, Cas?”

“If others were too foolish to take the opportunity to fully appreciate you in this manner, Dean, then they have ruined it for themselves. Now please move further up the bed.”

Dean scooted himself towards the headboard so that his legs and feet were up on the bed, not that Cas gave him much help, mind, barely lifting his weight off and causing their groins to brush tantalizingly together as Dean wriggled up.

“Anyone who could resist mapping the terrain of your skin, committing to memory the valleys of your chest,” Cas ran his tongue along one such to illustrate his point, “the constellations of freckles,” he nibbled down Dean’s belly, “and the brush of your hair against their lips,” he ghosted kisses down the trail of tawny hairs that disappeared beneath Dean’s waistband, “is nothing short of criminal.”

Dean couldn’t have formed a response to that declaration even if his power of speech hadn’t just been rendered completely useless. Cas moved to unbutton Dean’s pants and carefully push down the zipper. 

“I think it’s high time that we lost these, don’t you?”

Dean nodded vigorously, propped up on his elbows and utterly transfixed by the sight of Cas painstakingly pushing down his suit pants while following behind with more tastes and touches from his mouth. Good god, the man was trying to destroy him. Dean had never previously considered his knee caps to be erogenous, but the way Cas was toying with the flesh along the top and sucking kisses to the tendons around the back was sending waves of pleasure straight up his thighs to his dick, now achingly hard. Usually Dean would find it ticklish to be touched like this, or be self-conscious of his body so completely exposed to another, so why was it that Cas could make him feel so deliciously at ease. His attention was brought sharply back at the feel of Cas’ teeth grazing his ankle bone as one sock was slid down and off his foot, then the other. Cas had moved totally off the bed now, and was lowering his head, parting his lips to–

“Woah, woah, Cas, buddy. You really don’t want to go there.”

Cas lifted his head, the only part of him that was visible to Dean at present, and gave him a look in that quizzical way Dean was coming to recognize. “Don’t get me wrong, this all feels amazing, but I’ve been on my feet a good amount today, in those sweaty synthetic wedding socks, and I don’t think you want anything to do with the smell of sweat between my toes right now.” Huh, so he did remember how to form words when the need was dire enough. Good to know.

Cas gingerly sniffed at Dean’s toes and then nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Dean. I believe I will postpone the _complete_ head to toe appreciation of you until a time after we’ve showered. Now, may I continue?”

“By all means.” No way in hell was he going to hold Cas up any further.

Cas moved to the opposite ankle and began to work his way back up Dean’s leg, being no less thorough than he had been going down the other side. It was like being massaged with nothing but lips and tongue and teeth, and no less therapeutic. Cas moved back onto the bed, leaning his head down between Dean’s thighs to kiss the silky soft flesh on the inside. His hair was a mess, brushing against the edges of Dean’s boxer briefs and making him squirm. “May I take them off?” Cas’ hands were at his hips, fingers curing beneath the waistband of the briefs.

Dean looked up on hearing the request, and noticed for the first time that Cas was still entirely dressed. “What about you?” Lost in the sensations of Cas’ mouth roaming his body, Dean had been oblivious to the fact.

Cas looked down at himself as and smiled, revealing that he too had been unaware. 

“You are very distracting, Dean.”

“Says the man driving me to distraction.”

“You did say I could drive.”

“Does that mean I can’t request a striptease?”

Cas threw his head back and laughed, a warm rumble that was a joy to behold. “I’m not sure that you’d find it particularly alluring. I’m somewhat lacking in grace.”

“Now that’s one hundred percent not true. First off, I have seen you balancing a tray of moist towelettes while walking down the aisle of a plane during turbulence, and second, I’ve been twirled around in your arms on the dance floor. You have plenty enough grace, I think you’re just chicken.”

Cas raised his eyebrows haughtily. “Are you calling me chicken, Dean Winchester?”

“Chicken.”

“Okay, fine. Striptease it is. But you have to talk me through it.”

“Oh, that I can do, Cas. That I can do.” Dean beamed at him from the bed, propping himself up on a pillow and tucking his hands behind his head. “The first thing is to think of a song, so you have a rhythm to work with. You can even sing it quietly if that helps you to focus.”

Cas began to softly hum the tune to the song they had been dancing to earlier that night.

Dean smiled. “Good choice.”

“Alright, now, begin with the jacket. Slide it off one shoulder first and shrug out of that arm.” Cas was following along, but still looking somewhat hesitant. “Relax. Close your eyes and pretend I’m not here. Focus on the song and the rhythm. Good, now the other one.”

Dean hated not to see the dazzling blue of Cas’ eyes burning him with their gaze, but couldn’t help but be momentarily transfixed by the way Cas looked– dark lashes brushing his cheeks, his lower lip between his teeth in focus, and the subtle sway of his shoulders and hips as he let the jacket slide off his right arm to pool on the floor, all the while quietly humming the tune. Good lord, the man looked criminally good in a dress shirt and suspenders. It was almost a shame to make him take them off. Almost.

“Yeah, Cas, that’s good. Now slide your thumbs into your waistband and run them up your chest under your suspender straps.” He sighed imagining it was his own hands skimming up Cas’ chest. “Now slowly slide the suspenders off, one shoulder at a time.” 

Dean’s mouth was beginning to feel dry and his voice cracked a little as he continued giving direction. “So good, Cas. You look so good. Do the shirt next. One button at a time, starting from the neck. Might need to open your eyes for this.”

Cas began to unbutton, but rather than looking down at his hands working to reveal increasingly more of his tanned firm chest, he looked up at Dean. Any hesitation he may have felt about performing had obviously fled, because now his expression was that of a showman who knows his audience is enraptured with the performance. He reached the last button visible above his pants and then tugged the shirt tails free of them, letting it hang open. 

“Is this okay?”

“Oh god, Cas, more than okay. No, leave that on.” Cas had been starting to pull loose the royal blue silk tie at his throat, but stopped at Dean’s request.

“Pants next,” Dean directed. “Go slow. Yeah. With the rhythm. Like that.”

Dean was so hard now that it was beginning to be a little painful. He needed Cas to move this show along and touch him again already, but Cas seemed to be enjoying himself now. His button and fly were undone, the suspenders hanging down against those wonderfully thick thighs. He was swaying his hips ever so slightly from side to side as he pushed his pants down painstakingly slowly, his eyes remaining locked with Dean’s.

Dean swallowed hard and tried to work some moisture back into his throat.

“Should I step all the way out of them?”

All Dean could do was nod in response, glued to the revelation of skin and muscles that were Cas’ thighs bared to him. That is until he registered Cas’ hands sliding up said thighs and over the obvious erection contained by the clingy fabric of Cas’ boxer briefs. He continued to drag his fingers along the trail of dark hairs, up over his stomach and chest to push his shirt back down over his shoulders and shimmy out of it.

If this was a tease, Dean never wanted to find out what Cas could do by way of torture. The thought sent a tingle of anticipation down his spine.

“Um, Dean. What should I do about my socks?” He lifted one foot up so that Dean could see that he still had them on.

Wow, Cas was adorably awkward. “Wait, Cas, what are those?”

“They’re socks, Dean.”

“But they have fingers! Er, toes?! Lemme see them again.”

Cas sighed and came round to the side of the bed, lifting one foot up next to Dean so that he could inspect it.

“Wow, these are…” Dean was examining each fabric encased toe. “Bees?”

“I like bees. And the individual sections allow me to better spread my toes inside my shoes, improving my balance on the plane.”

“Wait, are _all_ your socks like this, like foot gloves?”

“Not all of them, but most of them, yes. After I discovered how much I liked wearing them, I bought a whole range when I was on a trip to Japan. They have a wonderful range of designs in this style of sock.”

Dean had to look up to check that Cas wasn’t bullshitting him, but he seemed to be completely sincere, his head tilted slightly to one side as he watched Dean examine his sock like it was something that happened every day.

“You realize that I need to have you model every single pair of these you have for me at some point in the future?”

“That could probably be arranged.” Cas’ smile was so wonderfully warm that Dean could feel the heat of it melting him.

He began to peel the black and yellow knit fabric down Cas’ foot, kissing the skin of his ankle as it was exposed. “How about we take them off for right now though?”

Cas obligingly switched out for the other foot when Dean had finished removing the first foot glove, so that he could repeat the process, his hands skimming up Cas’ calves and up to dig his fingers into the meat of his thighs.

“No more teasing. Please, Cas. I need you. Now.”

Cas nodded, and pushed down his boxers, letting his erection spring free and stand proud as he kicked the underwear off and away. He climbed onto the bed, straddling Dean’s legs and moving to remove his briefs. He didn’t follow up with kisses this time, just seared Dean with his eyes as he drank in the vision beneath him.

“May I suck you, Dean?”

Oh god, yes. “Please, Cas. Yes.” Dean could barely form the words. 

Cas began slowly lowering his face closer towards Dean’s erection, which was twitching in anticipation, never breaking their eye contact. It seemed like an eternity before the soft pink lips parted and Cas finally took Dean into the warmth of his mouth.

Dean’s hips would have thrust uncontrollably up into Cas’ mouth if the weight of Cas straddling him hadn’t pinned him to the bed. It was exquisite torture, at once too much but also not nearly enough. Dean whined and scrunched his eyes shut trying not to be totally overwhelmed by the sensations caused by Cas using the hard tip of his tongue in quick little flicks up Dean’s shaft. The pleasure made Dean’s muscles clench so tight he was worried he was going to get a cramp in his glutes. He fisted the pillow beneath his head trying to maintain control. He tried to pull in some steadying breaths, but Cas pulled his lips up around Dean’s length, massaging the slit with his tongue before sinking back down and somehow using his throat to suck Dean in deeper.

“Nnngghhhhh! So good, Cas. Feels, so–” Cas moaned in response, but with his mouth so tight around him, the vibrations only served to send delicious shivers straight down Dean’s cock. “’S too good! Stop, Cas. I’m not gonna– Want to– more. Fuck, Cas!”

Mercifully Cas released Dean from his mouth with a wet pop as he pulled off the head.

“What would you like more of, Dean?”

“More of– you know.” He waved vaguely indicating Cas’ body.

“I have an idea. But I’d like to know exactly what you have in mind. How I can best please you.”

“Aw, come on Cas. I wanna, you know, do _more_.”

“Do more of what in particular, Dean.”

“You gonna make me spell it out?”

“I want to make sure we are on the same page. What would you like to do more of?”

“You.”

“You want to do more of me? Are you saying that you would like to fuck me, Dean?”

Dean whined petulantly and refused to look him in the eye, instead pulling a bottle of Astroglide from beneath the other pillow that he’d stashed previously, and threw it at Cas.

“Dean?”

He took a deep breath and looked up at Cas looming above him, and nearly choked when he realized that Cas had slicked his hand up and reached between his own legs to begin fingering himself open.

“Holy fucking christ, Castiel Novak. Yes. Yes, I want to fuck you. Oh god, please, before you completely destroy me.”

Cas chuckled and gasped slightly as, presumably, he brushed against his prostate. “Mmmmm, I was very much hoping you might say that.” He pressed back against his hand again, eyes closed and focused on working himself open. 

Dean remained gripped tight between Cas’ knees, so moved his hands to explore the ridges and planes of those exquisitely thick thighs. They bulged and rippled, the muscles taught from Cas’ position kneeling over him. Dean let his fingers run up along them, stroking over Cas’ hips and moving up to his chest, loving that he was finally getting the chance to do some touching of his own. 

The man’s skin felt amazing - hot and taught across his abs, a fine dusting of dark hair across his pecs and down his arms. Dean half sat up to kiss the mole over Cas’ right nipple, flicking the silk tie he still wore out the way before running his teeth across the nub and sucking at it. Cas tasted like sunshine and seaspray, and Dean couldn’t get enough, nipping and kissing his way across to the other nipple, enjoying how it made Cas growl and rock back onto his fingers.

“I can’t focus when you do that, Dean.”

“Do this?” Dean flicked his tongue over a nipple. “Or did you mean this?” He grazed his teeth across the skin beneath it.

“No. Yes. Both.” Cas growled again. “Dean. Just give me– ugh– need a few more–”.

Dean was now lapping at Cas’ belly button, swirling his tongue around and sucking marks into the smooth skin around the edge.

He lifted his head away briefly. “No rush, Cas. Just doing some exploring of my own.”

Cas worked himself open, writhing and jerking above as he stretched and pushed deeper into his hole. Dean kissed and nipped at whatever patch of skin came within reach of his mouth, and kept his hands busy kneading and circling Cas’ incredible thighs holding Dean secure beneath him. Dean would have been happy to carry on like this all night, but then Cas was straightening up over him.

“Would you prefer to use your condoms or should I get one of mine?”

It took Dean a moment to register the question, mesmerised as he was by the heat of Cas’ skin.

“Er, mine are just there on the nightstand.”

“Convenient.”

“Pays to be prepared.”

Cas ripped open the packet and set it back on the bedside table. “Mmmmmm.” He rolled the condom down over the length of Dean’s still very attentive dick. “I see your interest didn’t wane while you waited so patiently for me.” He flipped the lid of the Astroglide bottle and slicked Dean up. 

“So patient, Dean. So perfect.”

And then he was lining himself up and pushing slowly down.

“Oh Cas, oh fuck, Cas, so tight.” Dean thought he might burn up from the heat of this man, so thick and firm, coming to sit fully down on him. He held Dean’s hips with his hands, eyes down, taking slow steadying breaths as he no doubt adjusted to being completely filled.

“Cas? You good?”

Cas’ eyes flicked up to connect with Dean’s and they were still for a moment before Cas bent forward to kiss Dean. The blue tie fell forward and tickled as it brushed his overly sensitive chest.

“Yeah, Cas. Perfect.” He wrapped the blue silk around his fist and used it to pull Cas into another open-mouthed kiss.

They both moaned into it, losing focus as Cas began to move over Dean, lifting his hips up and then easing back down in slow sensual undulations. Dean still held Cas to him by the tie and their gazes locked as Cas pulled away and pushed back down again and again. Slow and steady, rolling his hips slightly as he brought his ass into full contact with Dean’s pubic bone.

“So fucking perfect, Cas.” Dean’s voice was little more than a whisper as he spoke between shuddery breaths, “you are so perfect”.

He closed his eyes, releasing his grip on Cas and giving himself fully to sensation. The feel of Cas’ sphincter caressing his dick was sublime. Cas would lift off so that the head of Dean’s cock was barely still in him, before lowering himself back down again and rolling his hips forward. He had one hand braced on Dean’s sternum and the other on a thigh, using those to take some of the strain off his thigh muscles as he rolled his hips over and over and over, driving Dean to distraction. Dean was the beach, and Cas the waves lapping at his calm, wearing him away, pulling him in. The rhythmic slap of Cas’ cock against his stomach grounded him, the warmth and friction of his balls sliding over Dean’s abdomen stimulating the nerves that connected directly to the core of his pleasure. 

Cas looked incredible riding him. Strong, sunkissed, and oh so sexy. Dean found he was incapable of taking his eyes off of him, as if Cas might simply be an apparition that could slip away into another plane of existence if he looked away. But when Dean placed a hand on Cas’ chest there was no doubt that he was all substance, solid and searingly hot, his intense blue gaze locked with Dean’s own. Fuck, this wasn’t sex, this was making love. And Dean realized he was surprisingly okay with that. More than okay, god he couldn’t get enough of this man. 

He grabbed a handful of the royal blue silk that still hung from Cas’ neck and pulled him forward so that they could kiss, and tangled his other hand in the dark messy hair curling at the back of Cas’ neck, holding him close. The kiss was deliciously slow and deep, as unhurried as the pace of their thrusts. Cas pressed both his hands to Dean’s chest keeping Dean right where he wanted him. His beautiful long fingers were splayed wide, stroking Dean’s nipples when he encountered them, sometimes digging his fingertips into a pectoral, sometimes caressing along his sternum. And all the time keeping up that deliciously measured rhythm, the ocean rolling against Dean’s shore, coming closer and closer as the tide grew higher.

Cas sucked on Dean’s bottom lip just as his finger found Dean’s nipple again, and suddenly Dean found himself thrusting up uncontrollably as he came hard. He whined with pleasure and his hips bucked up again and again as his cock spasmed hard and hot inside the condom. 

“Sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean to–”

“Don’t you dare stop fucking me, Dean Winchester.” Cas, now free from Dean’s restraint by tie, sat back up again so he could roll his hips more freely to meet every thrust. “And please– nggh– touch– NGGHH– my– NGGGHHHH– cock!”

Dean was still hard enough to be pounding Cas’ prostate with his thrusts, but he probably wouldn’t be for much longer, so was more than happy to fulfil Cas’ request. He wrapped one hand around the shaft and used the other to caress the tip, circling it and sliding a fingertip back and forth across the slit, smearing precome all over everything.

“Shit, Cas. You look so fucking amazing. So good to me.” Dean tried to sit up and catch Cas’ mouth in a kiss but was summarily pushed flat back down on the bed.

“Close. Dean. Fuck me. Dean. Fuck. Mmmmm, like that.” 

Dean’s haze of bliss made it hard to focus on working Cas’ dick in time to his rolling thrusts but he did his best to match the pace of his hands and hips. Their bodies were sweat-slick against one another, everything sliding deliciously, making it easy for Dean’s hand to move along Cas’ hard hot length. His vocalizations were becoming louder and more guttural, each reverberation echoing the last traces of Dean’s recent climax. It was the best sort of soundtrack, and that was definitely saying something since Dean had lost his virginity with Houses of the Holy playing on the radio.

“Come for me, Cas. I got you.”

Cas spilled over Dean’s fist, his hole spasming around Dean’s softening cock, making it twitch valiantly in response.

“Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean.” Cas chanted as he began to relax after the peak of the pleasure. He fell forward, taking Dean’s face between his hands and kissing him hard.

“Mmmmmm,” Dean pulled back a little, “’t was amazing, Cas. You’re amazing.”

“I didn’t make this happen by myself, Dean.”

“Okay then, _we’re_ amazing.”

“Yes, I think we are rather amazing.”

“Cas?” Cas lifted his head from where it was resting on Dean’s shoulder to look at him again. “I want more of this. To be close and cuddled, but can we go clean up real quick? Not a big fan of the feel of cooled cum.”

Cas’ laugh was a warm rumble against Dean’s chest. 

“Of course. I’d very much like that too.” He bent to give Dean a sweet slow kiss but pulled back all too soon. “Well, show me to the shower, Mister Winchester.”


	12. Sunday, 8:15 A.M. (PST)

Dean woke up to the sun streaming in through the window. They’d forgotten to close the curtains, and had only been spared the sun this long because Sam and Jess’ guest room faced south. Shifting infinitesimally, Dean felt strong, muscled arms tighten around him and soft, warm lips begin kissing down the length of his spine. He turned over to face his mussed bed partner, who greeted him with still half closed eyes and a lazy, impossibly sexy, smile. 

“Mornin’, Sunshine.” Dean smiled shyly back at him.

“Hello, Dean.” 

Cas stretched cat-like, the length of his naked body glancing off Dean’s as he did so, his toned, warm limbs draping across Dean’s as he settled once again. Cas used the connection to lever them closer.

Dean snuggled in, letting himself be tucked into Cas’ body, loving the feel of Cas’ arm wrapping possessively around him while a leg hooked over his keeping them together. He found an angle where he could tuck his head onto Cas’ shoulder, under his chin and they both dozed off again for a while.

Dean dreamed he was in an oven. He was going to be baked. It wasn’t a bad prospect really, because he was in an amazing full butter pie crust bed, and the man who had ordered him was almost as delicious as he would be once fully cooked. He just had to get a little hotter. He could almost feel the man’s mouth on him already.

Wait, there really was a mouth on him. And it really was fucking hot. Was he being baked alive? Dean came fully back to himself, remembering Cas, the bed, the sunlight, but already regretting the loss of the pie. Even if he had been the filling. 

He wriggled free of Cas and the covers, flapping them off him. “Too warm. Far too warm.”

Cas turned over and buried himself back in the pillow. “Was enjoying kissing you,” was what Dean thought he heard Cas mumble.

“Sorry. Just getting all sweaty. Want coffee?”

“I’d prefer another few hours of sleep.”

Dean checked the time on his phone before setting it back on the nightstand. “It’s almost ten o’clock, Cas, so practically midday in Texas.” 

The only response was a muffled “fine”.

“How about you get to doze and I’ll bring coffee to you in bed?”

Cas turned over and looked over at him. Damn, he was fucking adorable all sleep-rumpled, with his blue eyes still bleary and his hair a riot of tufts and angles. It made Dean ache. 

“Will you come back to bed and we can drink it together?” Cas asked.

Dean smoothed a hand over his hair and kissed him on the forehead. “If that’s what you want.”

Cas made a happy sound and immediately flopped back down into the comfort of the pillow leaving Dean to get on with finding and pulling on a shirt and boxers before going out to the kitchen.

He was greeted by a round of barking coming from the laundry room where the girls had slept. They’d been able to get out to the fenced yard through their dog flap, but Dean had forgotten that Sam usually fed them long before this time. He opened the door and was almost knocked flat as Bela barged into the kitchen, wagging her tail and barking at him. Ruby was content to wait by the feed bin, also wagging, but making sure Dean knew exactly what was expected.

“I know, I know. You girls had to wait. You’ve been such good girls,” he crooned at them, “so good letting uncle Dean and Cas sleep all this time.”

He scratched behind their floppy ears as he got their food dishes ready, being sure to make them both sit before placing their breakfast down before them, just like Sam had told him to.

“Such good girls.” He was utterly ignored as they devoured their breakfast. He returned to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.

~

Once he had two steaming mugs of coffee set on a tray with a pitcher of half and half and a small squeeze bottle of honey (Sam and Jess didn’t seem to keep actual sugar in the house), Dean went back to the bedroom. 

Cas was sprawled out diagonally across the bed, in what was more or less the recovery position. He’d kicked off the comforter and the grey top sheet was barely covering him - in fact, it looked more like a giant set of wings extended from the beautiful tan sinews of Cas’ shoulders, the way he was more lying on it than under it.

The sun had shifted again, falling directly across Cas’ bare skin, painting him with light and adding to the image of him as some divine creature in a Renaissance triptych, all gold leaf and angelic wings.

The sight took Dean’s breath away and he had to hurry over to the desk to put down the tray before he dropped it. He was on Cas in a flash, kissing over every inch of illuminated skin, worshipping with his lips and tongue.

“Dean, that tickles, an’t’s cold.”

“So fucking beautiful, Cas.” Dean traded his lips for fingers, brushing along a sun-kissed bicep. “Brought you coffee.”

Cas wriggled to a sitting position, yawning and stretching his arms overhead, completely unconcerned with the fact that he was still only covered by a corner of bed sheet.

“Didn’t know how you liked it, so I brought cream and honey. No sugar though, sorry, Sammy’s too damn healthy for his own good.”

“Mmmm, no, honey’s perfect.”

Dean squeezed a generous dollop into one of the mugs and began to stir. “Cream too?”

“No, black is great.” Cas received the steaming cup almost reverently. “Thank you.” He took a tentative sip and sighed contentedly. “Do you know that it takes three-hundred bees about three weeks to make a pound of honey? Or that bees do a dance when they find particularly good flowers to show the other members of their hive where to find the nectar? Honey is a truly incredible thing, it’s an antibiotic, doesn’t ever go bad if stored correctly, has all the substance needed to sustain life, and it’s delicious.”

“Huh, that’s actually pretty cool.” Dean set his own coffee on the nightstand and gently rejoined Cas back on the bed before retrieving it. It felt so fucking good, just sitting side by side sharing the moment.

“Sorta feel like I should be trying to jump you right now, make the most of our limited time together.” Dean gently bumped their bare shoulders together, being careful not to spill any coffee. “But this just feels so right, like there isn’t a rush. We have time to enjoy sitting here, drinking coffee, because it’s just the beginning for us.”

Cas shifted so he could look at Dean, positively beaming. “I feel that way too. It seems insane that I met you two days ago, coz it feels like we’ve known one another forever, and then I remember how much I still get to learn and discover about you and I’m excited all over again.”

They were both smiling now, staring unblinkingly, neither one wanting to end the moment quite yet. Cas brought one hand up to claim Dean’s fingers from their position wrapped around the mug and entwined them with his own. Finally Cas sat back against the headboard, and they sat sipping and holding hands in the sunlit room.

“It feels like I’m on vacation.” 

Dean frowned at Cas by way of enquiry. 

“I’m not permitted to return to work until after the disciplinary hearing, and I’m not entirely sure when that will be. And so, although I’m sure there are probably plenty of things I should be doing to prepare for that – finding a lawyer springs to mind– until a date is set, I am going to consider myself on vacation.”

“A lawyer, huh, pretty convenient that you just went to a wedding with a bunch of ‘em..”

“Oh yes, Sam, of course. But I thought you said he was a Defence Attorney, I’m going to need someone who specializes in employment grievances.”

“Sure, but you can bet Sammy knows exactly who you can call. And it ain’t the Ghostbusters. Can I take your mug?”

Cas handed over his now empty mug and placed both of them on the nightstand.

“This is an employment dispute, Dean, not a haunting.” Cas looked at him with obvious confusion.

He let Dean deal with the mugs before pulling him back down onto the bed to lie with him again. 

“Really? … Who you gonna call? ... Ghostbusters? … The Gatekeeper, the Keymaster? … The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man? … None of it? ... Nothing?”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t get those references.”

“Damn, I knew you were too good to be true.”

Cas grabbed the pillow out from beneath Dean and proceeded to smother him with it. 

Dean’s muffled “Hey!” was followed by him handily flipping Cas over and pinning him to the bed.

“Huh, don’t get to use my close-combat training that often in the field. Glad I still got what it takes.”

Cas glared up at him, effectively wiping the smirk off Dean’s face.

“I guess what I was trying to say is that I’m glad you’re flawed, so I know this isn’t just some incredible fantasy leaving me hot and sweaty.”

“So I’m flawed?” Cas continued to glower.

“In a good way! But yes, not knowing what Ghostbusters is definitely counts as a flaw.”

Cas tried to stay looking angry, but his poker face was cracking as Dean wriggled his hips, pushing down against Cas’ still very naked lower half.

“I happen to think flawed is beautiful.” Dean purred into Cas’ ear and kissed the soft skin of his neck just beneath it.

“Mmmmm. We all have our limitations.” There was a whir of motion that Dean couldn’t quite process, and then suddenly he found their positions had been reversed, that Cas had flipped Dean over just as easily as Dean had done to him and he was now very effectively restrained under a deliciously naked man. 

“Anti-terrorism training,” Cas told him nonchalantly.

“Touche.”

Cas looked like a predator ready to tear into him. His hair was wild, his biceps flexed with the effort of holding himself over Dean, the intense blue of his eyes seemed to burn into Dean’s very soul.

“The coffee was excellent, thank you,” Cas said conversationally as if he were not completely naked and holding Dean prone beneath him. “It woke me up nicely.” He rolled his hips to indicate exactly how awake he was now as if Dean hadn’t been acutely aware of the moment Cas had grown hard. 

“Wanna work up an appetite?”

Dean hoped that he might get to experience that mouth on him again, just like in the dream where he’d been the pie.

“Oh, I’m definitely hungry.” Cas lowered his head and began nibbling along Dean’s neck, not releasing his wrists and obviously enjoying making Dean squirm beneath him if his mounting efforts were anything to go by.

“Mmmph, Cas, need to take off these–”

A series of loud raps proceeded a lot of barking from the back yard.

“Fuck. I totally forgot about the dog sitter.”

Dean leapt up and hurried to the front door. It opened to reveal a stocky man with short cropped thinning hair and a bristly beard. 

“You’re not Moose.” Oh, and he was British, apparently.

“Uh, no. His brother, D-“

“Ah! I finally get to meet the Squirrel. The name’s Crowley. I’m here to pick up the girls?” As if on cue Bela and Ruby started barking again, from the other side of the house.

“Shall I go through to them?”

Rather than waiting for an answer, he walked through the house to the laundry room, when the girls were wuffing impatiently. Crowley opened the door and was instantly set upon, both dogs jumping up and licking all over his face. 

“How’s my favourite, girls then?” Crowley squatted down to rub and scratch the two Labs, who by now were in paroxysms of delight. “Did you miss yer Uncle Crowley?” he crooned at them. Dean exchanged a bemused glance with Cas, who had joined them in the kitchen, now complete with a shirt and boxers. 

He leant against Dean as they watched Crowley scratching Ruby’s belly with one hand and behind Bela’s ear with the other.

“I presume Sam has all their things already packed up?” Crowley looked up at them, arching one eyebrow, apparently noticing both their proximity and lack of actual clothing. “Or maybe you were otherwise preoccupied…”

Dean coughed and looked around the laundry room. Where would Sammy have left a bag for the dogs? He began to move to the laundry room to look for it and felt Cas follow him.

“What are we looking for?” He kept a hand on Dean’s arm as they both looked around the room.

Dean spotted a patterned canvas bag sitting next to the bin of chow. “This, I think.” He unzipped it and peeked in. “Yup. Hey, can you grab their leashes off the hook?”

Cas did as requested and they took the stuff through to the kitchen. 

“And here I thought the newlyweds had already gone on their honeymoon,” Crowley smirked at them. “And I gotta admit, if I’d known how pretty the brother was, I’d have pushed much harder for a wedding invite.”

Dean looked at Cas to see if he could understand the British man. Cas shrugged and shuffled his foot so that it touched Dean’s.

“Well, I guess I’ll be gettin’ along with these hell hounds and let you two get back to it.” He gave them a knowing wink, retrieved the bag from Dean, and clipped the leashes onto the dogs’ collars. Bela and Ruby were instantly all business, smartly coming to heel next to Crowley, as he opened the front door and began to take his leave.

“You’ll take good care of them?” Dean belatedly called out.

“Obviously, it is what Moose pays me to do.” He stopped to look at the dogs who both looked up in unison. “Plus they’re such good girls. You good girls? Yes, such good girls.”

Dean couldn’t argue with that and was unable to think of a suitable parting gesture now that Cas had slung an arm around his waist, so stayed quiet.

Crowley paused a second longer, waiting, but eventually turned and bustled down the path muttering, “I dunno, Young Love.” He reached the sidewalk and the lights of his SUV blinked as he pushed the button for the trunk.

Dean looked at Cas. “Young Love? He’s five years older than either of us at the most. Asshole.”

“I think he meant that the love is young. New,” Cas clarified.

Dean grinned broadly. “Oh, okay. Not an asshole then.” He pulled Cas in for a kiss and when they broke apart the dogs, Crowley, and his SUV were gone.

“Come on, let’s go shower.” Cas practically dragged Dean back into the house.


	13. Sunday, 1:20 P.M. (PST)

Mary sat opposite Dean and took another bite of her sandwich. He waited quietly while she chewed, swallowed and finally looked up at him.

“I can’t believe you asked him to your brother’s wedding having just met him.”

Dean couldn’t help smiling at the memory of calling Cas, his palms so sweaty with nerves that he’d nearly dropped the phone.

“Told you, Mom, it just felt right.”

“And I already told you that I like him very much. But what are you planning to do now? Is it just a holiday romance?” Dean’s face immediately dropped. “Honey, I didn’t mean that was all it could or should be. All I’m asking is how you plan on really getting to know each other.”

“We’ve made plans to meet up this evening. Go out for dinner so we can really talk, you know?”

Mary looked pointedly at him. “And after this weekend?”

Dean shrugged.

“I’m not trying to be mean, honey. It’s just that I can see how much you like this man, I want to make sure you are protecting yourself.” 

“Mom! We’re using–” 

Mary held her palm up halting him. “Protecting your _heart_ , Dean. Though, of course, safe sex is equally important.” She grinned roguishly at him.

“I was actually thinking about asking him to come and stay with me. You know he lives in Austin, so four hours. It’s not far from Nacogdoches really, all things considered.”

“But you don’t live in Nacogdoches.”

“Timpson is only a half hour further.”

“Not everyone insists on driving as fast as you do, Dean.”

“Okay, forty minutes, max.”

“That would still constitute a long distance relationship. Plus you both travel so much for work. I just want you to go into this seeing things clearly. I’ve watched you get hurt too many times, Dean.”

“It’s different, Mom. I can’t explain why, but it is. It doesn’t feel like we only just met, but like I’ve known him so much longer. He sees me, I don’t understand how, but when he looks at me he doesn’t just see this,” Dean gestured at his face and torso, “he sees into me, like he knows my soul. It sounds silly, but there’s no other way I can explain it, but he gets me. There’s some weird connection between us.”

“So you can read him too? You wear your heart on your sleeve, Baby, and trust so completely. I want you to be sure it’s not misplaced.”

“He’s definitely a little more mysterious. There may be parts that will take longer for him to open up to me about, but I want to earn that trust, so he feels safe to show them to me.”

Dean already knew damn well that he would do anything to keep Cas’ usually serious expression at bay. Knew that beneath his veneer of professional efficiency was a man who was playful, fierce, and kind, a man who watched bees while he drank coffee sweetened with honey, who made the most delicious noises when he climaxed, and who could worship with lips and hands until he made Dean holy.

Mary had been quietly waiting, letting Dean process and get his thoughts in order. 

“I know he’d never hurt me, is all. Damn, all he does is care for people, tries to help them and make them happy. If I can do just a fraction of that for him, then I think it’ll work. But I got my work cut out for me.” Dean thought it was probably not to mention that all he’d done for Cas so far was gotten him suspended from a job he loved.

“Well, if you are both committed, maybe it will all work out.” Mary smiled at him and covered his hand with hers.

“God, Mom, I hope so. I _really_ like him.” Yeah, Dean knew he had it pretty bad. After only a couple of days, he wanted to discover all that Cas had to reveal, protect and provide for him, and be worthy of everything Cas gave him in return. And not through a sense of guilt for being the cause of his possible unemployment, or because Cas had taken care of him. Like he’d tried to explain to his Mom, it was different with Cas. It felt primal, that he needed to love Cas like he needed to breathe. 

Shit, I _love_ Cas?

Fortunately Mary derailed that line of thought by changing tack. “So when do you have to fly home? It’s really nice you get to have a little vacay in California, huh?!”

“Ugh, Mom! Please don’t say vacay. But yes, turns out not having to rush straight back to work is kinda nice.” He grinned at her. “I fly back midday tomorrow, get back with enough time to drive home and get in a decent night’s rest before work on Tuesday. Far more than I’d originally thought I’d get, if any!”

Mary looked sternly at him. “I know you’d do it because you love your brother, Dean, but I still don’t approve.”

“Mom, it never happened! I’m flying, remember.”

“And I’m proud of you for loving your brother enough to face that fear.” She pushed her empty plate away. “Now, talking of flights, we had better settle up so that you can drop me at the airport and get back to that nice young man of yours.”

~

“You found the place okay?”

Dean lay against Cas’ chest on the fancy microfiber sectional, a cup of coffee in his hands and soft kisses being pressed into his hair.

“Uh huh. Wasn’t too tricky. Thank fuck you told me I could use the garage. Street parking would have been a nightmare, even in Sammy’s stupid Prius.”

“Dean,” Cas smoothed a hand up the back of his neck in a placating gesture, “it was very nice of Sam to let you borrow his car.”

“No, Cas. He let me borrow his car so that he and Jess don’t have to fork out for the cab ride home. I get the privilege of depositing, and paying, I might add, for that piece of junk to be in the long stay lot at the airport for when they get back from Spain.”

Dean felt the quiet rumble of laughter in Cas’ chest as much as he heard it. 

“It’s a fucking Prius, Cas! I thought I’d taught Sammy better than that.”

“I will defer judgement until I have witnessed this Baby of yours first hand, Dean.” Cas made air quotes with his fingers when he mentioned Baby, which was both dorky and adorable.

Dean hadn’t had any trouble finding Meg’s house in the Sunset neighbourhood. It was a cute two bedroom place with stucco out front and balcony that you could see the ocean from. Well, at least that’s what Cas had told him. Fucking fog was so thick you couldn’t really see anything beyond the other side of the street at the moment. It was like he’d dropped his Mom off at the airport in the summer, and then driven north to a different season rather than just a different city. It was actually cold - 59º according to Sammy’s stupid car - so being curled against Cas with the warm mug of coffee cradled in his hands was nothing short of heaven.

He shivered and Cas pulled him in closer, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean.

“Sorry, I should have warned you that the fog had come in from the ocean. It does get quite cold in this part of the city when that happens.”

“ ’Sokay. Kinda nice not to be sweating for once.”

“I’m sure we could remedy that.”

Dean elbowed him playfully, but accepted the kiss to the cheek happily, nuzzling into it.

“Tell ya what was really nice: Meg letting us have her place to ourselves. Although, not gonna lie, I was kind of curious to meet her.”

“She can be…. exhausting.”

Dean couldn’t help the renewed flare of jealousy triggered by the images that description triggered. 

“Exhausting?” He tried not to make the question sound petulant, without much success.

“She has opinions on everything and insists on giving them freely. The new suit, for example: the first store we went to wasn’t _contemporary_ enough, then in the next one we weren’t helped promptly enough. Then when we finally were helped - it seemed no wait at all to me - she disregarded all the sales clerk’s suggestions anyway, picking everything out herself. I won’t even go into her critiques of some of the suits she had me try.”

Dean laughed, feeling silly for having been concerned.

“I love her dearly, and we’ve been friends for a long time, but I have no regrets that our romantic relationship was short-lived. Most tiring forty-eight hours of my life.”

“You guys only dated for forty-eight hours?!”

“I’m not sure that’s quite the right terminology. There weren’t any dates. But that was about as long as I could handle having my sexual techniques critiqued, yes.”

Dean turned to look at Cas, eyebrows raised, provoking a wonderful flush of pink across Cas’ usually tan skin. “Lemme tell you, Cas, I’ve witnessed that technique first hand, and mouth, come to think of it, and let me tell you - there ain’t nothing to criticize.”

He lent in a kissed Cas soundly to reinforce his point.

“So– wanna get me all sweaty before we go find something to eat? I promise to give nothing but positive feedback.” Dean sucked on Cas’ lower lip, moaning with pleasure as he did so.

“Very much so. Plus I particularly enjoy receiving that sort of feedback.”

“Uh huh.”

Cas slid his hands down Dean’s abs and under his henley, eliciting another hum of pleasure from Dean. He pulled Dean flush against him so that his erection pressed into the small of Dean’s back, leaving no doubt as to exactly how much he enjoyed those sounds.

“Bedroom?” The word came out a little squeakier than Dean had intended, but Cas was looking at him like he intended to lock him up and throw away the key in the best possible way. Dean couldn’t deny that sounded more than a little appealing. 

“Bedroom.” Cas said it not as a suggestion, a request, or even an answer. It was a command, and Dean deposited the mug on the table next to the sectional and practically ran to the bedroom only too eager to fulfil it.

~

Dean lowered himself gingerly onto the bench in the booth. He and Cas sat opposite one another in an old fashioned style diner down near the beach, legs twisted together beneath the small table. Dean was thankful that benches were worn and soft. He was wonderfully sated but a little tender. Cas had been _very_ thorough in his experimentation of what acts brought about the most satisfied noises from Dean. 

They both ordered burgers and scanned the selection of songs on the little jukebox that sat between them by the window, holding hands and feeling happy. They both knew they were avoiding the inevitable conversation about what happened next, but this moment, like all of their moments, was too good to introduce the uncertainty of the future.

The fog had lifted enough that the sun was a hazy yellow ball over the ocean, lighting the little diner with strange hue. Dean decided it made Cas’ eyes look even bluer than usual but it might just have been the way they were focussed on him, drinking him in and snapping memories to file away for another time when their knees weren’t pressed together and their thumbs weren’t stroking over one another’s knuckles.

“Not gonna lie, Cas. Last time someone looked at me like that I got laid.”

The corners of that beautiful pink mouth curled up and Dean couldn’t but help but feel proud of himself for being the reason for Cas’ smile. Two dark eyebrows also lifted as the smile widened.

“Yes, I believe it was about two and a half hours ago. But we can arrange for round three if needed.”

“Round three?”

“Yes, I’m counting the shower as a separate incident.”

“Fair enough. Ask me again later when I’m not quite so hungry.” Dean took a large bite of his burger to prove his point. It was perfect. The sweetness of the onions and tang of ketchup complemented the spices in the tender meat washed over his taste buds and the moan of pleasure slipped out before Dean had a chance to think better of it.

“Not gonna lie, Dean. But last time someone made that noise for me they were getting laid.”

Dean grinned around his mouthful of food. “So good!”

They both focussed on their food for a time, sometimes taking a break for a slurp of soda or iced tea, sometimes to share a bite with the other and generally bask in the pleasures of good food.

“This makes me very happy, Dean.” Cas held up the last few bites of his burger to show what he meant, but before he’d even finished his mouthful added, “ _You_ make me very happy.”

“I don’t think I can do it.” 

Cas looked up not understanding Dean’s response.

“A relationship? Dean, I know it’s all been rather sudden but we can make it work.”

“No, Cas. I can definitely do a relationship. I don’t think I can get on the plane. Fly.”

“You made it here.”

“I had you.” Dean looked up at the dark-haired man across from him and reached across the table to take Cas’ hands in his once again.

“Dean. You still have me.” Cas squeezed Dean’s hand reassuringly. He didn’t realise the strength the simple actions provided, the confidence that flared whenever Dean’s awareness was drawn back to their connection.

“I’m not sure I’m gonna be okay without you.”

“Oh Dean, you don’t need me for the flight. You’ll be fine–”

“Not the flight. Cas, I need you. Want you. I know it seems kinda forward, but I’d really like you to come and stay for a few days. If you don’t need to be back in Austin in a hurry.”

“Dean, we had sex in an airplane bathroom the first day we met, I’ve been to your brother’s wedding and we’ve done things I’ve only ever seen porn stars attempt. I don’t think anything bar proposing to me could be considered forward at this point.”

Dean flushed. “Well, then, you wanna come back to my place?”

“Yes. Thank you, Dean. I would like that very much.”

“You would?” He couldn’t quite believe that Cas was agreeing to this, that he wanted to keep seeing Dean.

“Very much.” Cas took out his cell phone. “I had better see if I can book a seat on your flight. Wouldn’t want you to work yourself into a sweat flying home.”


	14. Monday, 11:20 A.M. (PST)

The plane was about to board. Dean wasn’t in the bathroom feeling faint, splashing his face with cold water, or giving himself a pep talk. He was pressed against the wall above a toilet bowl with his dick in Cas’ mouth and trying really hard to be quiet while his balls drew up and he threatened to spill his load. Cas’ hands held his thighs supportively while those beautiful pink lips worked up and down the length of his shaft.

He couldn’t stop it at this point, even if he’d wanted to. Which he most certainly did not. Cas’ tongue gave one last sweep of his head and Dean felt his ass clench and his hips rock forward as he began to come. Cas sucked and swallowed in perfect rhythm to Dean’s pulsing, milking every last drop from him, and all the while keeping him steady so that he didn’t melt away from the pleasure washing over him.

When Cas finally decided Dean was suitably sated, he used the handrail to pull himself up so they were at eye-level again. Dean pulled him close and kissed him, not deterred by the lingering taste of his own cum on Cas’ lips and tongue, or the fact that his jeans and boxers were still around his ankles. It was soft and languid, Dean still floating on the high of orgasm, their bodies pressed together and arms relaxed around one another's waists.

“Should probably get dressed again.” Dean managed to find words again and held on to Cas with one arm as he used the other to pull his clothes back up and on.

“Do you think you can walk? We probably still have time before they call our row.”

Dean looked momentarily confused before his brow furrowed as reality struck. “Don’t undo all your good work, Cas. I’d forgotten we were in a public bathroom, let alone at an airport about to board a goddamn plane.”

“Well, I’m glad we’ve figured out how to quell your nervousness.” Cas smiled impishly. “But it’s not technically a public bathroom. It’s a family bathroom. I thought your therapy warranted a modicum of privacy at least.”

Dean finished straightening his clothes, before he turned his attention to tidying Cas, whose hair had been thoroughly abused from Dean’s attempts to ground himself in the storm of sensation that Cas’ mouth had elicited.

“So good to me, Cas. And I didn’t even get to return the favor.” He stroked a hand over the bulge barely perceivable behind the fly of Cas’ black slacks.

“I’m not the one with a fear of flying, Dean. Anyway, we don’t have time. Ready?” Dean nodded and they quickly exited the bathroom.

If anyone had seen them enter or leave the bathroom together, the bustle of bodies moving towards gates or lining up to board provided more than enough distraction. Cas led the way to the service desk at their gate and gave a perfunctory smile to the man sitting behind it.

“Hello, Ephram. I’m Castiel Novak. I was told that new boarding cards would be available for me to pick up here at the gate.”

The man looked at Cas suspiciously, his lips curling slightly in displeasure. “Novak, yes. I’ll need to see identification for both of you.” He gave Dean a fleeting glance, as if actually looking at him was too distasteful.

They handed over their licences and he held up each one and did a quick comparison before huffing and handing them back along with two boarding cards. “Have a nice flight.” He said without smiling.

“Welcome to business class.” Cas handed Dean his documents and leaned in close. “His customer service has always been somewhat lacking, but I believe the news of my suspension has already been circulated among the crew.”

The reception they received from several of the flight attendants was somewhat frosty as they boarded, but eventually they were seated in seats far plusher than those Dean had travelled in previously and were being asked if they would like anything to drink.

“Just a glass of water for me, please Anna. Dean?”

On hearing her name, the flight attendant turned from pouring coffee for the passenger behind them to give them her full attention. “Castiel! Are you really– They said you– With–”

“Yeah, water for me too is great.” Dean decided it was better to cut her off there and let Cas handle any explanation he might choose to give.

“Anna, may I introduce my boyfriend, Dean Winchester?”

“Boyfriend? You mean this is–?” Cas nodded as Anna broke into a huge smile. “Well I never. Castiel!”

“Dean, Anna Milton, both a friend and a colleague.” Cas finished the introduction.

Dean extended an arm across Cas to shake hands with Anna, who was still grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Well, can’t say I wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing in your situation, Castiel.”

Anna was still holding Dean’s hand, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to extricate himself when Cas coughed pointedly. “Finders keepers, Ms. Milton.” 

She laughed and let Dean go free. “Damn right he’s a keeper. Well, gentlemen. Let me get you both some water.”

“Well, at least I know there are still some people on my side,” Cas said once Anna was out of earshot.

“She seems nice.” Dean took Cas’ hand and squeezed it. “And I bet she ain’t the only one who’ll have your back.”

“I hope you’re right, Dean.”

“Hey, I know I’m right. And I’m not just saying that coz I’m your _boyfriend_.”

Cas met Dean’s gaze with a look of concern. “You didn’t mind my introducing you to Anna like that did you?”

“Mind?! Cas, it was awesome. Feels like a million dollars to be sat up front in these fancy seats next to my boyfriend.” Dean bumped their shoulders. “Seriously, Cas, it’s more than alright.” He turned Cas’ head and placed a long soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Ahem.” Anna was back bearing two bottles of mineral water. “Here you go.” She handed them each one, along with a napkin and a packet of pretzels. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to enjoy the flight, and definitely don’t hesitate to call on me to assist with _anything_ you might need after take off!” She winked and moved on down the aisle, her silky read ponytail swishing jauntily.

Dean pulled Cas closer to him, leaning his head on Cas’ shoulder. “Almost a shame I’m not willing to share you.”

“I don’t believe three people would fit in an airplane bathroom, even if you were, Dean.” 

~

Dean woke up with his head in a damp spot on Cas’ shoulder. He must have been drooling.

“Sorry about the wet.”

“Ah, you’re awake. Good timing, they’re just starting to bring out lunch. Do you think you could eat something?” Cas dabbed at his shoulder with a napkin while Dean straightened himself out a little, taking full advantage of the extra legroom with a full body stretch.

“Yeah, food sounds pretty good actually,” he said on the end of a yawn. “My stomach feels grumbly rather than churny.”

“I don’t think _churny_ is a real word, Dean. But it does seem like you are doing well.”

“Kinda am, aren’t I?” He couldn’t believe he’d managed to relax enough to actually fall asleep. “Not even a little bit clammy.” He lifted Cas hand up to his forehead to prove his hairline was sweat-free.

Cas kissed his hair indulgently. “Maybe I’ll make a flier out of you yet.”

Dean grimaced. “Ugh, let’s not go that far. But yes, having you by my side providing constant reassurance and distraction is a big help.”

“We haven’t even had to use the facilities.” Cas raised one eyebrow suggestively.

“Don’t talk about that, you’ll make me need to pee.”

“Well, staying hydrated is very important in times of heightened stress when you are more likely to sweat and therefore lose fluids. You should definitely get another bottle of water with your lunch.”

“How do you manage to make that sound sexy, Cas? You know if it had been you giving the talk about emergency exits and life vests on the way here, I’d’ve probably gotten all hot and bothered in a seriously different way.”

“Either way, the net result would have been the same.”

“And now you’re sitting here with me rather than out there doing the job you love. You sure you don’t regret it?”

“Stop, Dean. I have told you before, but will happily tell you again as many times as you need to hear it until you start believing me. How can I possibly regret this. Yes, I love my job. But if it doesn’t work out, there are other jobs that could make me just as happy. There is only one _you_ , and I’m not sure if there is anyone else that could make me as happy if it doesn’t work out.”

Dean squeezed Cas’ hand in his and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Either way. Like you said. Does kinda feel like you and I were meant to be.”

“We do seem to have something of a profound bond.”

Dean snuggled closer and kissed him again, loving the feel of having Cas here next to him, their knees pressed together, their fingers intertwined. It made him feel full, relaxed, and happy, in a way he’d never really experienced with anyone else.

“Well, know that I wanna be there for you too, when it’s you who needs the support and reassurance. Oh, hey Anna.”

They put down their tray tables for Anna to place the two meals on.

“And how are you two lovebirds doing?” She winked and grinned at them both.

“Very well, thank you, Anna.” Cas smiled up at her.

“You both okay with the meat option?” Dean had already opened his sandwich up and examining the lunch offerings.

“I think you can take that as a Yes,” Cas answered for them both.

“Hey, there’s pie!”

“It’s actually pretty good today too. The apple is generally much better than the cherry. Now, what can I get you to drink?”

“Just water for me, please,” Dean said around a mouthful of roast beef sandwich.

Anna retrieved a bottle from her cart and handed it to him. “Castiel?”

“Hot water with a slice of lemon would be wonderful when you have a moment.”

“I’ll finish up with the cart and bring that out to you as soon as I’m back in the galley. Enjoy your food.” She moved down the aisle to help the next row of passengers, and Cas and Dean were left to eat. 

“I like her,” Dean commented. 

“Yes, Anna has always been very kind to me. She was my team leader when I first started with Virgin before she was promoted to Business class.”

“Do you have contact information for her?”

“Dean, I thought we had agreed that three ways weren’t going to be our thing!” Cas was smiling, despite the censure in his tone.

“No, silly. I was thinking that you might need people to provide you with character references, or even speak on your behalf as part of the disciplinary process.”

“Oh, yes. I suppose you have a point.”

They sat in comfortable silence while they ate, until Anna returned with Cas’ drink.

“Anna, could I ask if you would be willing to act as a reference for me?” She looked at him with concern. “For the disciplinary. It might help if I had statements from others I’ve worked with. Would you be willing to vouch for my character, if it was needed?”

“I was actually going to offer, Castiel, so I am very glad you brought it up. I’ll make sure to get you my details before the end of the flight. Let me know who else I can put you in contact with too, if you need. I’m sure Benjamin would happily attest to your excellent service record as well.”

“Thank you, Anna. That means a lot to me.”

“Well, this job can be a little all-consuming and sometimes life happens at inconvenient times. We’re only human, Castiel. I know that you will be your own toughest critic.” She turned her attention to Dean. “Make sure he isn’t too hard on himself, won’t you? If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you, Castiel.” She leant down and squeezed his hand affectionately. “Now, back to work!”

“She’s right, you do deserve happiness.” Dean smiled at him. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“I hope you’re right, Dean. I hope you’re right.”


	15. Monday, 6:35 P.M. (CST)

“Cas, meet Baby. Baby meet Cas.” He stroked a hand along the gleaming black paintwork and leaned in close to the big car. “Want you to run extra smooth for him, okay, because I like him _a lot_ so I really need you two to hit it off, ’kay old girl?”

Cas laughed. “She’s beautiful, Dean. Definitely a lot more personality than Sam’s Toyota.”

“Damn straight. 1967 Chevy Impala. She’s a true classic. Come on, let’s get these bags in the back and get outta here.”

Dean’s duffle and Cas’ carry on suitcase took up no space at all in the Impala’s vast trunk and Dean noted Cas’ slightly wide-eyed expression, laughing. “I promise you I’ve never stashed a body in it.”

Cas shoved him and rolled his eyes as Dean moved around the car to unlock and open the passenger door for him. He followed, stopping to kiss Dean sweetly on the lips before pulling away and ducking down into the pale leather interior of the beautiful classic car. 

“Such a tease, Novak.” Dean shook his head at the man now sitting in his passenger seat. 

Cas looked up at him all wide eyes and innocence. “Drive me home, Dean Winchester?”

Dean shut the door with a creak and a thud before scurrying back around to the driver’s side and climbing in. They sat across the bench from one another, both looking at the other and smiling.

“Thanks for coming with me, Cas.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I’m happy we have this chance to spend a little extra time together.” He reached a hand across the space to settle it on Dean’s knee. “Plus, I have to admit to being excited to see you in your natural habitat.”

“That much of a fish out of water in California, huh?”

“Not so much. But seeing you behind the wheel of your car, it’s as if there were a piece of the puzzle missing and now it’s in place and I can see the full picture.” Cas traced soft patterns on the denim covering Dean’s thigh while he spoke.

“Huh, I can get on board with that. Kinda like how when you’re working - you’re so at ease on the plane, you roll with every bump and shift, at one in your space.” Dean gazed through the windshield, but instead of seeing the bland parking lot, he could see Cas walking down the plane’s aisle, his balance sure, his interactions completely natural as he took care of his passengers.

“Exactly.”

Dean turned a dazzling smile on Cas. “Well, we’d better get on the open road so you can really experience the Dean Winchester magic.” He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbled and then growled to life.

Castiel squeezed Dean’s thigh, his eyes growing wide at the noise of the car beneath them.

“It’s all good. Think of it as a bass line.” Dean pushed the cassette into the tape player and Blue Öyster Cult came to life as he began to manoeuvre the huge black car out of the parking lot.

Thankfully the evening rush hour was starting to ease so they moved along at a decent pace, headed out of town along with the majority of traffic. Dean hummed along to the music happily, his hand stretched out across the Impala’s front bench so his fingers could intertwine with Cas’. Cas seemed amazed at how relaxed Dean was driving, but even when they hit a backup to get onto I-30 Dean couldn’t bring himself to care. He was content to bask in the comfort of Cas’ touch and being at the wheel once again. He simply smiled and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with Stairway to the Stars.

Pretty soon they were outside the city limits, driving into the softness of dusk, the lights of the cars they passed beginning to glow as the sun lit them from behind. Cas, no doubt lulled by the purr of the Impala’s engine, was soon resting his head against the passenger door, his eyes closed and his hand sliding from its resident spot on Dean’s thigh. 

Dean smiled at the sight, turning the volume of the music down slightly so as not to wake his boyfriend. 

Cas was his boyfriend. Officially. And here they were, Cas asleep in the passenger seat of his beloved car, driving back to Dean’s house so that they could spend more quality time together. He hadn’t really hung out with a partner since… shit… he couldn’t remember when. He and Brandon had mostly just had sex, and usually spent what little time they did have together at Brandon’s place in Nacogdoches because Brandon was usually on call. Hanging out with him had never felt like a priority.

Now Dean couldn’t wait to get home. To share his space with Cas, to show him the garden, the town, to take him to Ellen’s diner for lunch and meet Jo. Maybe they’d even drop in on Garth and see how Bess was doing. Dean had to be back at work in the morning, but he wasn’t worried about Cas being alone in his home, he knew Cas would be content to read, maybe explore the area a little, or probably just get on with his own work. Dean knew Cas had his laptop and would start contacting colleagues and preparing for his disciplinary hearing. Dean had already sent Sam a message asking if he could recommend a good lawyer for Cas to talk to.

If Dean could come home early enough maybe he could cook for Cas and then help him go through everything. He wanted to be there for Cas, emotionally. Be the shelter and support that Cas had been for him when he’d been freaking out on the plane. 

By the time Dean pulled into his garage he was determined to make sure Cas had everything he needed in order to focus on putting together his case for reinstatement. Cas loved his job, and if Dean ended up being the cause of him losing it, would Cas ever really love him? When he leaned across to the sleeping form in the passenger seat, he knew he had to do everything he could to make it right.

“Cas. Wake up, Sunshine, we’re home.”

“Hmmmm? Sorry. I dozed off.”

Dean laughed. “You’ve been asleep most of the drive, but we’re here, and if you’re beat you’re gonna be way more comfortable on my memory foam. I love Baby, but I’ve slept in her enough times to know she don’t compare to a quality mattress.” 

Dean was already out the car and retrieving their bags from the trunk when Cas finished stretching and unbuckling his seatbelt. He got out the car and followed Dean through a side door that he had unlocked to enter the house.

Dean turned on the light in the kitchen and took the bags straight through the house to his room in the back, turning on more lights as he went.

“You wanna go straight to bed, or d’you want to eat or shower or something?” Dean called from the bedroom.

There was no response, so Dean finished pulling off his shoes and socks before heading back to the kitchen. He found Cas standing in front of the built-in dresser, looking at the dishes.

“These are Russel Wright, Dean. In perfect condition.”

“Not perfect.” Dean held up a bowl to the light for Cas to examine. “They’re for everyday use, so they do have some wear.”

“You collect vintage plates, Dean.”

Dean blushed. “This house was built in the early 40s after the war, by the grandfather of the man who sold it to me. None of the family wanted to be out here anymore, and the Grandfather hadn’t made a whole lot of updates, so I got it at a really good price. They were also selling off lots of his old furniture and stuff along with the house, it was already here, all seemed to go together, and so I pretty much bought whatever was in decent shape. Got to admit I kinda fell in love with the dishes. The colors are cheerful, but not loud like stuff today. Ikea, or Crate and Whatnot, or wherever.”

“I think it’s wonderful that you care for what you think is worthy. You’re not interested in a quick fix, or whatever is shiny and new. If you feel something has value, you restore it, protect it, cherish it.” Cas moved closer and placed a palm against Dean’s cheek. “You’re amazing.”

“That’s just stuff. Well, maybe not Baby. But, you, Cas…” Dean melted into the touch of Cas’ thumb stroking across his cheekbones, pulling him into a hug. “Will you let me? Do all that for you too.”

“Me?” Cas stilled, looking up into earnest green eyes in the yellow glow of the kitchen light.

“Look, I know we didn’t really plan this out or anything, and I have to work tomorrow– fortunately just in the office for the few days – but, Cas, I want you to stay here, so I can take care of you. You know, cook and do laundry and stuff, so you can be totally focussed on getting things in order for whatever shit this disciplinary stuff throws up. Or when you’re not doing that you can just be relaxed, coz I’ll take care of all the other stuff. Will you let me, Cas? Will you stay?” He still held Cas close, with only enough space between them to maintain eye contact. Dean’s heart was pounding in his chest, both desperate and terrified for Cas to give him an answer. Had he pushed too hard?

“You don’t have to do this, you know, Dean. I know you think you’re responsible for my suspension, but I made a choice to follow you into that restroom.”

“You thought–” 

“Yes, I know. I thought you were having a panic attack, but on some level I knew that wasn’t true. I was already attached to you, already paying you special attention. It was my choice, Dean. I appreciate you wanting to be supportive, but you don’t need to feel guilty. As I said, I have no regrets.”

Dean frowned and shook his head, moving his arms down Cas’ and taking his hands.

“No, it’s not about that at all. This isn’t guilt, something I’m doing to atone for my sins or whatever. You are so strong, so capable, always being the one to look after the needs of others. It’s why they would be mad to fire you — you fucking rock at your job. But I care about you, Cas. I want to be able to do that for you. Not from guilt, not because I think you don’t got this, but because I care about you, Cas. A helluva lot.” Shit. He’d pushed too hard too soon. Brandon always said he was needy. Clingy. A mother hen. Now Cas would run for the hills. Dean looked at the floor, dropping Cas’ hands and beginning to retreat.

“Dean Winchester.” Cas was suddenly nose to nose with him, pushing him back into the doorframe and caging him in between toned chest and arms. “You are the sweetest, kindest, sexiest man I have ever had the privilege of meeting.”

Did this mean Cas wasn’t going run?

“If you want to tend to my every need, I wholeheartedly accept that honor.” Cas kissed him hard on the mouth, sucking his bottom lip in before pulling away again. “And Dean, I do mean my _every_ need.” He moved back in for another kiss, this time letting his tongue wander it’s way into Dean’s parted lips, as his hands began to roam up and across Dean’s back and ass. 

“Thank you for caring about me, Dean,” Cas whispered into his ear, “you have no idea how happy it makes me.” He ran kisses up the muscle of Dean’s neck, nibbling on the smooth skin behind his ear. “I care about you too.” He sucked Dean’s earlobe and nuzzled against his cheek. “So very, very much.”

Dean laughed breathlessly, all his nervous energy now focussed in a very different direction. “You suddenly seem very awake.” He pushed his hips forward, letting Cas know that his erect cock hadn’t escaped Dean’s notice.

“As much as keeping you up all night does sound wonderfully tempting, Dean, I know that you have to be up early for work.”

“But I napped on the pla–!” Dean’s body chose that moment to betray him, a powerful yawn breaking free and stealing the end of the last word.

Cas laughed that wonderful deep rumble that Dean could feel reverberate through him where their lower bodies were connected. He kissed Dean softly before resting their foreheads together. “There is no rush, Dean. I’m staying. We have all week to enjoy each other. Every night to enjoy each other.”

Dean grumbled, but Cas smoothed a hand over his temple and round to the back of his neck, digging his fingertips into the soft spikes of hair there. “It’s been a very long weekend. Let’s get some sleep so that I can get up early with you. You can show me where things are and we can have coffee together before you go to work. Does that sound okay?”

Dean sighed, but he was smiling, and he let Cas ease them back to standing unsupported by the doorframe.

“It sounds better than okay.” He took Cas’ hand and led them through the living room to his room at the back of his little house. “It hasn’t really sunk in yet, you know?” Dean indicated to where he’d set Cas’ suitcase on the storage chest at the foot of the bed. “I mean, it was one thing in California, to be on vacation, having this magical romance.” Dean began unpacking his duffle, throwing dirty clothes in the direction of a laundry basket set off to one side. “But having you here, knowing I get to wake up beside you, that you’ll be here when I get home from work, it’s a little overwhelming.”

Cas looked across at him concerned.

“No, no. I mean in a good kinda way. In a ‘what did I do to deserve this, coz I’m so fucking happy I could burst’ kinda way.” Dean stood smiling, transfixed by the shining blue eyes locked onto him, his electric toothbrush in one hand, rooted to the spot by the affection and joy he read in Cas’ gaze. Then he was moving quickly around the bed to pull Cas in close, just as Cas moved towards him.

They collided at the corner of the bed, arms getting tangled, hands still clasping random items as they frantically came together, their mouths searching each other out. Dean had one hand in Cas’ hair, pulling him in close, the other arm wrapped around his waist. Cas was holding a button down shirt, or some pants maybe, Dean couldn’t tell what the garment was, but was vaguely aware of the feel of fabric at his back and the buttons pushing into his spine where Cas held him tightly. 

“You make me so goddamn happy, Cas. You have no idea.”

Cas hummed against his shoulder where he was nibbling at the muscles of Dean’s shoulder. “I think I have a _very_ good idea, Dean. I would guess it’s similar to the way you make me feel.” He sighed contentedly and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, snuggling into him. “You’ve opened yourself to me, introduced me to your family, invited me into your home. You make me feel wanted. Like I belong. Cherished. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

Dean stroked Castiel’s back with his free hand, and kissed his hair. He pulled him closer, but the toothbrush must have got knocked because suddenly it was buzzing against the small of Cas’ back where it rested in Dean’s grip.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to spoil the moment.” Dean fumbled trying to turn it off one-handed.

Cas grinned at him wickedly. “I wouldn’t object to us experimenting with vibrating devices another time.”

“’Fraid my toothbrush is off limits, Cas.” This statement earned Dean a playful pout from the man in his arms. “But…” he continued, not wanting to see the look of disappointment even in jest, “I might happen to have some toys we could play with.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Dean Winchester.” Cas wriggled free of the embrace and pushed Dean in the direction of the bathroom. “Now go on, we’re eating away at our good intentions of getting an early night here. Go put that thing to good use whilst I finish sorting out my things.”

“Fuck, I love it when you’re bossy.” 

Dean headed to the bathroom as Cas called after him, “duly noted.”


	16. Tuesday, 5:20 P.M. (CST)

Dean wrestled the three bags of groceries from the passenger seat of his truck and headed for the house. He’d already sent Cas a text message to let him know he’d managed to leave the office early and was headed to the store to pick up what he needed to make dinner.

He was giddy with the joy of being able to come home and cook for Cas. If he was being completely honest, he’d probably spent the better part of his afternoon browsing recipes online, instead of cross-checking last months offender list against the Fishing and Hunting Licence register. And so what if, once he’d settled on making the shrimp risotto, Dean had left a little earlier than he usually would have. It wasn’t every day he had someone to rush home for.

It’d been so hard to leave Cas that morning, sitting at the kitchen table with his hair jutting out in every direction, laptop open and nursing a second cup of coffee. Dean had worried Cas would get bored or that he wouldn’t have everything he needed, for the whole fifty minutes it took him to drive to the office in Rusk. He’d sent Cas a message as soon as he’d pulled the truck into its spot.

[Dean] _Did you get online okay? The wifi can be a bit fritzy sometimes. Just turn it off and on again to reset it if you need to. <3_

He hit send before he changed his mind about sending the heart at the end of the message and began climbing down from the truck. He’d only made it as far as the office door when he was pulling out his phone again, thinking of something else he needed to tell Cas.

[Dean] _Also- more coffee beans in the freezer if the ones in grinder run out. Know you like to stay well caffeinated. ;-p Eat anything you can find - not that much - sorry! I’ll stop at the store on the way home so let me know anything you want me to grab._

He pushed the door open, to find Donna already seated at the front desk. She grinned up at him as he walked into the cool of the air conditioned space.

“Morning, Dean.”

“Morning, Donna.”

His phone chose that moment to buzz in his pocket, and he immediately fished it out to see what Cas’ response was.

[Cas] _You needn’t worry about me, Dean. I have everything I need to get through the day. Have a good day at work and I look forward to being together tonight. x_

A kiss! Cas had sent him a kiss! Dean hadn’t been able to help the ridiculous grin that spread over his face, which Donna, of course, noticed immediately.

“See you had a good time at your brother’s wedding. Dance with a bridesmaid?” She gave him a knowing wink.

“Yes, but it was the man who cut in that just messaged me.” Dean could feel himself turning pink.

“Awww!” Donna squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. “You found a new boy toy. Never did think that Doctor over at Nacogdoches was good enough for you. Too concerned with having someone pretty on his arm to actually care about that person as a, well, person.”

Dean looked at her, touched by Donna’s insightful assessment of Brandon. She was right, of course. Donna was good people. Always had his back, and it seemed like it would be no different time.

“Thanks, Don,” he said, “yeah, I think this one is special.”

“Certainly looks that way.” She’d gone back to the paperwork she was sorting through, letting Dean escape to his desk in the back.

Now, standing holding the bags of groceries, waiting for the garage door to roll open enough for him to duck under it, he smiled at the memory of Donna’s reaction. He hadn’t told her Cas had come back with him, not because he thought she would ask a ton of questions that he wasn’t quite ready to answer, but more because he wanted to keep Cas all for himself. He wanted it to be their private time together, away from comments, judgement, or the world at large. Together in a happy private bubble.

He hurried to get back to Cas as quickly as he could.

“Dean!” Cas immediately jumped up from his seat at the kitchen table and came across to the back door where he’d entered. “Here, let me take one of those bags.” Cas relieved Dean of one bag, who gave him just enough time to set it down on the countertop next to his own, before pulling him in close and kissing him hard.

“Mmmmm, missed you so much, Cas,” Dean broke the kiss just long enough to tell him. “Been so hard to not to spend the whole day thinking about you here.” He stroked over Cas’ hair with one hand, cradling his cheek in the other as he moved his mouth back over Cas’, showing him just how much he’d been missed.

Cas pulled back, smiling at Dean, who still held his face in his hands. “Welcome home.”

“I’d say. How was your day?”

Dean let Cas go, and turned to start unpacking the groceries. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean from behind and leant against his back while he worked.

“Very productive, actually. I started off by emailing Anna, and some other of my colleagues that would be willing to provide accounts of my good professional conduct.”

Dean hummed happily in response and let Cas talk.

“Then I wrote out a full account from my perspective so that I have an accurate record when I am interviewed. I don’t want to get muddled up and seem like I am changing my story at any point. It will also help when you give your statement if our accounts line up, so we can compare and make sure our timelines match.”

“Which they will,” Dean half turned to kiss him on the cheek, “because we were in it together, and we’ll get through it together. Right, Cas?”

Cas kissed him back. “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate how supportive you are being.”

Dean paused from his tasks so they could kiss fully for a moment. Cas’ arms were so strong and secure around him, the man never ceased to make him feel protected, even when it was Dean who should be doing the protecting right now.

Cas hummed lazily as the kiss wound down. “Sam emailed this afternoon. He must have been up very late.”

“Ugh. I don’t want to think about him and Jess up late on their honeymoon.” Dean scrunched his eyes shut tightly, making Cas laugh. “Wha’d’e say?”

“Not much about their holiday really, other than he and Jess got to Barcelona just fine, which you knew, and that they have settled into the time change and that the hotel is wonderful. Something about flamenco lessons.”

“Really?”

“You are welcome to read it, Dean.”

“Huh. Sammy doing flamenco. That would certainly be a sight. Can we ask Jess to film it, d’ya think?” He grinned mischievously, earning him a playful swat on the ass from Cas.

“Let them enjoy their time in private, Dean.”

He pouted, and Cas kissed him on the nose.

“Anyway, the majority of the email was Sam’s recommendation of a friend of his who specializes in employment law. He’s usually a prosecutor, it seems, but Sam said he’s just about the best and knows every strange loophole or subclause in practically every industry under the sun.”

“That’s awesome, Cas. I knew Sammy would be able to put you in touch with someone good.”

“But Dean, the best part is that he is based in Dallas, so I can probably go and meet with him in person.”

“That’s really great! We can go together. He gave you a name and number, right?”

“He did. And Dean, you’ll never guess who it is.” Cas smirked, making Dean frown in consideration.

“Who? I really don’t know any of Sam’s lawyer friends.”

“Oh, I don’t think you could possibly forget this one.”

Dean scrunched his nose and eyebrows trying to think, and then his face went slack as it dawned on him. “No fucking way, candy guy? What’s his name in the crazy gold suit? Gabe. Gabriel.” 

“The very same. Gabriel Shurley. Shurley junior of the legal firm Shurley and Shurley.”

“Damn. Did you call him?”

“I did. He was very professional over the phone, and actually seemed strangely eager to meet with us.”

“So when we driving to Dallas?”

“He said that he can see us last thing on Friday.” Cas looked imploringly at him. “I hope it was okay to say yes, Dean.”

“Shit, Cas, of course it was okay. I told you that I’d do whatever I could to help you with this, and I meant it. Friday is fine. Great, in fact, that he can see us so soon. You can drive the Impala over to Rusk and meet me at work coz it’s on the way.” He chuckled as an idea occurred to him. “Donna will get such a kick out of getting to meet you. She questioned me about the big fat stupid grin I walked in wearin’ this morning.”

Cas laughed.

“Well, I look forward to meeting her, Dean. But I would very much like to see you wearing that big fat stupid grin.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And nothing else.” 

“Dinner can wait.” Dean did a cursory glance around the kitchen to make sure there was nothing left out that would spoil or burn, before letting Cas tug him in the direction of the bedroom.


	17. Friday, 4:00 P.M. (CST)

“You sly dog, Dean. I wondered what had happened on the plane. You came back from the bathroom as white as a ghost. And then asking him to be your date for our Samshine’s wedding too! Good lord, you Winchesters are a kinky bunch.” The amber flecks in Gabriel’s merry brown eyes flashed as he looked between the two of them with a broad grin. He was considerably less flamboyantly dressed than the last time they’d seen him, though none the less dapper. 

“Us Winchesters?” Dean was confused.

“Ah, Sam didn’t tell you exactly how he and I know each other. I see.” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“From law school…” Dean wasn’t sure he really wanted to know now.

“Yes. We dated freshman year.”

Dean practically choked. “You and Sammy? Dated?” Shit, he had no idea that Sam had had relationships with men as well as women. Why hadn’t they talked about it? Sammy could have come to him with that, surely. He’d probably been too busy having his own bisexual panic, Dean realized, not to mention the fact that his reaction to anything regarding his little brother and sex had generally been to put his hands over his ears and hum loudly.

“Well, we stayed in and screwed more than went out on dates, but good times, nonetheless. Until I wanted him to be in my porn film. That’s when he decided we were better as friends, and he was probably right. The Samsquatch usually is.”

Dean and Cas exchanged dumbfounded looks, neither having the slightest idea how to respond to that particular revelation.

“Anyhoooo, we’re here to discuss Castiel’s sex life, not mine.” Gabriel picked up his folio and pen, reverting back to his professional persona. 

Cas shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was sitting in, burrowing into the leather upholstery. “Do we really need to discuss the entirety of my sex life? I thought it was just this one event that was under scrutiny.”

“Well, given your choice of venue for this particular event, it may be necessary to talk about your previous behaviors.” Gabriel looked serious, and Cas sighed audibly.

“I assure you, I have never, ever, had sex on a plane before. Or in any other public location for that matter.” He sat up straighter and moved one leg to cross the other. “There may have been an incident in the boys’ locker room in High School, but unless Balthazar and Lilah have been bragging about it, I doubt anyone knows that ever happened.”

“You went to high school with people named Lilah and Balthazar?!” Dean asked incredulously.

“That’s what you chose to focus on, Dean?” Cas turned to him, evidently relaxing a little as a small smile ghosted across his face. 

Dean took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, glad he could be here to support Cas through this. “Hey, we all did crazy shit in school. Ask me about Cassie and Ronda in the janitor’s closet some time.”

Cas rolled his eyes and returned his focus to Gabriel and continued. “You are asking if there are skeletons in my closet.” Gabriel dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Then the answer is No. I have an impeccable employment history. I’ve already contacted some of my previous colleagues who are willing to provide references to my conduct and character. This was an isolated incident. It was just that Dean called to me in a way that I couldn’t ignore.”

Cas looked affectionately at Dean, who grinned gummily back, and they sat getting lost in one another’s gaze until Gabriel coughed pointedly. “Okay, okay, point made, enough with the eyefucking already.”

They both laughed sheepishly and tore their eyes away from each other, but left their hands linked.

Gabriel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What we need to do is unquestionably illustrate that your deep connection with Dean is what caused your momentary lapse of judgement. It has never happened before because there was no Dean. It won’t happen again because… wait! That’s it!”

He jumped from his chair excitedly and hurried around the desk, pulling Dean and Cas to their feet and throwing his arms around them both in a tight hug.

“Congratulations!!” Gabriel clapped them both on the back 

Cas and Dean looked in confusion at each other over the head of the shorter man. 

“Congratulations?” Cas asked.

“Yes. On your engagement, and upcoming wedding.”

“Woah, woah, Gabriel. You need to explain.” Dean was pulling away trying to make sense of what was going on here.

Gabriel let go of them and clapped his hands gleefully. “You’re getting married. And the sooner the better.” They stared dumbfounded at him, so he continued to explain. “I think Castiel can be somewhat forgiven for getting a little carried away after agreeing to marry his boyfriend. That’s you obviously, Dean. You were going to wait until after your brother’s wedding to propose, but couldn’t contain yourself and had to do it on the way there. Now given that Castiel, was working at the time, this probably wasn’t the most sensible decision. But love is love, and when the moment strikes.” Gabriel shrugged, beaming happily at them.

Dean fought to regain control of his jaw, which seemed to have lost all muscles and now hung permanently open. He looked across at Cas trying to gaze his reaction. He looked… smug? Cas chose that moment to turn on him.

"It seems you are going to need to be very forward with me after all, Dean." Cas raised one eyebrow in that self-satisfied and yet annoyingly sexy way he had.

“I suppose that can be arranged.” Dean held his gaze for a moment before he could hold a straight face no longer, and he grinned at Cas. 

Damn, was this really happening? Dean couldn’t deny the whole scheme kind of thrilled him, and obviously, he wanted to help Cas, but marriage wasn’t some shit you did on a whim. His smile fell. “Hey, Cas. You know I want to do whatever I can to help you keep your job. But are you sure you’re okay with us getting married? It isn’t something we can just undo.” The question didn’t feel nearly as strange as it should have.

Cas didn’t hesitate. “If it lets me keep my job, I’m all in. That is, if you’ll have me, Dean Winchester.”

“Fuck, yes.” Dean beamed at him, as Cas pulled him in for a kiss.

“Ahem.” They had both completely forgotten about Gabriel. “I think that sufficiently proves my point about the two of you getting carried away.” They both looked guilty, but Cas didn’t move his hand from where he had positioned it on Dean’s thigh. 

“Now, that story will answer for the lapse in judgement, but unfortunately it won’t excuse it.” Gabriel was back in official mode, and scribbling notes in his folio as he talked at them. “My guess is that, with that explanation and the glowing accounts that your colleagues will undoubtedly supply, we will be able to get your punishment reduced to a warning, a suspension and possibly a fine of anything up to $500.” 

Cas gulped and gripped Dean’s knee, but let Gabriel continue.

“The airline is unlikely to want to take the case to a federal level — and yes, it would be under the jurisdiction of the FBI— since the incident occurred in the air—- due to the unwanted costs and publicity associated with such a case. Similarly, if they were to terminate your employment outright that could lead to your pressing charges for unfair dismissal, or far worse, going public yourself, leading to more unwanted publicity. For better or worse, image is everything in these matters. So, unless I am very much mistaken, which hasn’t happened yet, if we get you two happily married off ASAP, we can settle this whole thing quietly and without too much fuss at all.”

Cas looked visibly relieved, and his death grip on Dean’s hand relaxed slightly, but Gabriel wasn’t finished.

“Now, because an official complaint was filed, the airline is required to fully investigate the claims made and you will not be allowed to work while that is happening.”

“Yes, they already sent me an email saying as much,” Cas interjected.

Gabriel nodded, seemingly noting the fact in his folio before continuing. “It will most likely be a slow process, I would guess a couple of months.” He looked apologetically at Cas. “They will most likely start by taking statements from you and the other crew you were working with, including the person who filed the complaint. If the claims made against you are substantiated —- which we can only assume they have to be, as you yourself are determined to confess to having had sexual relations with Dean during the flight —- then they will do further interviews and collect additional statements. This is where those references you have lined up will come into play, and will almost certainly include you submitting a statement too.” He looked pointedly at Dean who nodded emphatically.

“Now, the fact that Dean’s statement will cast no blame on you, other than having indulged in activities of a very personal nature whilst on the clock, will help your case immeasurably, Castiel. It was a sexual act, albeit an ill-conceived one, between two very much consenting parties. This is not a harassment case of any kind, thank god. And because this is the first time you have ever had any sort of disciplinary action brought against you–,” Cas nodded vigorously and Gabriel bowed his head in acknowledgment– “my guess is that you could get away with nothing more than a stern talking to, having already served your suspension. Although whatever the outcome you will most definitely be kept very close tabs on going forward.”

Gabriel finished up his notes and gave Cas and some instructions on how to word their statements, copying him in on any and all emails pertaining to the investigation, and what they needed to get married.

“Guess we’d better go down to the courthouse first thing on Monday and get a marriage licence. That is, if I’m gonna have to make an honest man out of you,” Dean said, once they were safely out of Gabriel’s office, and walking back to where the Impala was parked.

“I believe we are getting married precisely for you to make a _dishonest_ man of me, Dean.” Cas grinned at him. “Come on, let’s go and get pizza before we drive home.”

“Marry me, Cas.”

“That is the plan, Dean. That is the plan.”


	18. Monday, 8:10 A.M. (CST)

Dean checked the rearview mirror again to make sure the Impala was still behind him. He wasn’t really worried about Cas driving it, or even that he wouldn’t be able to keep in convoy with Dean’s big white work pick up, it was more that he wanted to make sure Cas was really coming with him. They were headed to the courthouse to obtain a marriage licence. Their marriage licence. He and Cas were getting married. Dean turned the aircon a couple notches higher to stave off the sweat he felt beading at the back of his neck. 

He checked the mirror again and could see Cas sitting at the wheel of his Baby, looking cool, calm, collected and very much like he belonged there. Goddamn, that was a sight for sore eyes. Dean couldn’t have said if it was the car that made Cas look so good or the other way round, but either way, he could feel his cock stirring in the khaki pants of his warden’s uniform. 

He’d called in to let the office know he’d be a little late to work, simply saying that he had to call in at the courthouse on the way in. Donna had been upbeat and hadn’t asked any difficult questions, it not being particularly unusual for the game wardens to need to call in to check on records, or look up other information at the courthouse that was easier to access in person than online. Not that they usually did it before work on a Monday morning. Or drive twenty minutes to a courthouse in the opposite direction to the one they worked next to.

But here he was, already pulling the truck into the Shelby county courthouse parking lot and navigating the truck to an empty section of the lot. Cas opted to back the Impala (rather expertly, Dean noted with both pride and relief) into the spot beside the truck so that he and Dean climbed out of their respective vehicles to stand toe to toe.

“You ready to do this?” Dean asked, wiping his palms on his pants nervously, not quite able to meet Cas’ eyes.

Cas snagged his hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing Dean’s knuckles. “This should be very straight forward, Dean. We just have to show the clerk our IDs and sign some paperwork from what I understand.” 

Now Dean did look fully at Cas, his eyes as endlessly blue as the summer sky above full of affection and concern. Dean let himself get lost in them for a moment, taking comfort in the connection.

“Come on, let’s go in.” Cas moved towards the red brick building, their hands still joined as the approached the big glass doors.

The clerk was easy to find and there was no one ahead of them, so they went straight up to the kiosk.

“Good morning, we would like to obtain a licence to be married.” Cas addressed the woman at the window.

“Certainly, Sirs. Let me grab that paperwork for y’all while you get your identification ready.” She disappeared from sight while Dean and Cas retrieved their driver’s licences from their wallets.

“Here we go! I’ll just borrow those for a moment.” She began filling in the form, reading off their details, and verifying the information as she went. “Mr. Novak? Are you still at 1304 San Antonio? Apt. 206?” Cas confirmed that he was, and the woman continued. “And Mr. Dean Winchester. Oh, you’re local, howdy, neighbor! You’re still over in Timpson at the Holly Street address?” She looked up and Dean granted her his most charming smile.

“Sure am.” He could sense rather than see Cas roll his eyes in his peripheral vision.

“Okie Doke, please read over the information to ensure there are no errors,” she turned the form around to face them and they both scanned over what was written, “then you will sign right here, Mr. Novak.” She pushed the pen in Cas’ direction, and he wrote, presumably his name- though to Dean it looked like a series of elaborate swirls- in the spot she indicated. Cas gave Dean a challenging look and handed over the pen as the clerk pointed to another spot on the page. “And last but not least, you sign here, Mr. Winchester.” He did so, not really looking at what he was writing because he suddenly found himself unable to look away from Cas. He put the pen down and pushed it and document back towards the clerk, all the while smiling at Cas.

Dean vaguely registered her stamping the form they’d just signed and putting a carbon copy into a manila envelope, which she slid across the counter to them. “The licence will become active seventy-two hours from now, so that would be…” she looked up at a clock, “Eight-thirty on Thursday morning.” Dean was still gazing into Cas’ incredible blue eyes, barely registering what she was telling them. “Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, gentlemen! Have a wonderful day!” she concluded perkily as they leaned towards each other, focussed only on closing the distance between their lips.

Dean melted into Cas, savouring the feel of his plush lips pressing against his own. It was slow and soft, and more or less appropriate for the public setting. The clerk obviously didn’t mind, because her voice startled Dean a moment later, and he released Cas.

“Awww! You two are so in love. I just know you’re going to be happy husbands.” She giggled and moved away from the window, presumably to return to her work behind the scenes.

Dean could feel himself flush. Was that really what they were? _So in love._ The idea didn’t scare him, rather made him ache with longing for it to be true. Certainly there was lust and a great deal of affection. But they weren’t _in love_ surely? He’d have the next few days to think on it at least, without the distraction of Cas’ broad chest, or muscled thighs, or perfect dick and sinful mouth to drive any attempt at rational thought away.

They had agreed that it made sense for Cas to go back home to Austin for a few days. He desperately wanted more than the two changes of clothes he had with him (not that he hadn’t looked incredible wearing Dean’s jeans and his old AC/DC shirt when Dean had arrived home last night). “Plus my plants will all die if they don’t get watered very soon.” Cas had told him.

“I know, I know. It makes sense. And you are more than welcome to take Baby, coz the nearest rental place is in Nacogdoches. It seems kinda crazy taking you all the way down there when there is a whole lot more car sitting right in the driveway with no one to drive her.”

“You won’t need her, Dean?”

“Nah, ain’t going nowhere other than to work, and I’m gonna need the truck for that. Those roads ain’t no place to take a class act like the Impala.” Dean had grinned at him.

His thoughts were pulled back to the present and the courthouse by Cas handing him the manila envelope. “Would you look after these until Thursday? I don’t want to accidentally leave them in Austin.”

“Yeah, yeah. Course.” Dean took the envelope carefully.

“Just want to use the restroom before I set off. Meet me outside?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded, kissed his cheek and headed back out of the building.

In the parking lot, he set the paperwork carefully on the passenger seat of the truck before turning to give his Baby the once over before Cas started his drive back to his house.

“You gotta take good care of him while I can’t, you hear. You’ve never led me wrong yet, old girl, so look after him just the same way you would if it were me driving. I’m gonna marry that man when he gets back, Baby, so you gotta make sure nothin’ stops that from happening.” Dean was sitting in the driver’s seat with his head bent low, his hands stroking over the leather of the big steering wheel.

“Are you talking to the car?” 

Dean jerked upright and practically jumped out of the car. “Goddamit, Cas. Give a guy some warning will ya, you need a damn bell.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Cas moved into Dean, pinning him against the doorframe of the car. Dean immediately snaked his arms around Cas’ waist and pulled him in close.

“Just telling her to bring you back to me safely.” Dean squinted at Cas outlined against the bright sunlight of the morning, trying to make out his expression, but Cas was already leaning in and peppering Dean’s face with kisses.

“I promise you, Dean,” Cas punctuated his words with a kiss to a corner of Dean’s mouth, “that both your car and I” - a kiss in the opposite corner - “will be back here on Thursday ready to put that marriage licence to good use.” Cas ran his tongue over Dean’s bottom lip causing him to moan and submit fully to the demands of Cas’ mouth.

“Shit,” Dean pulled away at the sound of the Courthouse clock striking the half hour. “Gotta go to work. I told them I wouldn’t be more than an hour late. Sending me out to the Sam Rayburn reservoir today to check in at the station down there. Reports some folks are still hunting gators, despite the season having wrapped up.” He looked over at his big white truck and sighed. “Gonna miss you two.”

Cas kissed him again, before standing straight and stepping away. “We’ll be back before you know it. Go on, get to work.” He shoved Dean in the direction of his truck.

Dean opened the driver’s side door and hauled himself up into the cab. Cas had followed him around and knocked on the window, which Dean lowered.

“I’ll let you know when I’m home safely, okay.” Cas looked up at him with an earnest blue gaze, and Dean could feel his heart being pulled. He lent out the window to press one last kiss to those chapped pink lips.

“Bye, Cas.”

“Until Thursday.” Cas stepped back away from the truck, and Dean slid the window back up, before starting the engine and letting the air conditioning kick in. Three days until they would see each other again. Three days was nothing. The time would fly by. Wouldn’t it?

As Dean pulled out of the courthouse parking lot he wasn’t sure. He suspected they might be very, _very_ long days.


	19. Wednesday, 8:45 P.M. (CST)

Dean paced back and forth in the small kitchen, his sweatpants clinging to his clammy legs uncomfortably in the heat. 

He was debating taking a second shower. The humidity was oppressive and it smelled like a storm might be rollin’ in. Fine by him. He felt pretty much that way himself. He’d had nothing more than a couple of short conversations via text message with Cas in the past twenty-four hours, to let him know that he’d made it home in good time, that both he and the Impala were fine and so on. Nothing really meaningful. Dean wasn’t entirely sure what he’d even wanted to hear. 

It was just now that he was by himself at home again, the last two weeks felt like he’d dreamed them. How could any of that have really happened? It was like the plot of one of those ridiculous Hallmark movies that he swore to Jess and Sammy he never watched but actually loved to indulge in every once in a while. That stuff happened in movies, and books, and to other people. Not to him. Why on earth would someone as sexy and kind and clever and amazing as Castiel Novak want to saddle himself by marrying him? Dean boring Winchester. 

He sat down at the kitchen table, trying to calm himself, but his legs were far too restless and he immediately gave up, stood up once again and went back to pacing.

He knew he could fall for Cas. The man checked every damn box he had. Even ones he hadn’t known he had until Cas had shown up. He thought of the way Cas’ nose crinkled up smelling the coffee before he took his first sip in the morning. How Cas liked to lie on his stomach to sleep, but with his head always turned to Dean’s side, so they could drift off with their foreheads together. How finding Cas here in the kitchen when he got back from work, his laptop open and papers spread out over the table made him giddy with happiness. He would set down whatever he’d carried in from the truck and go over to where Cas was sat working, wrap his arms around him from behind and lean down to kiss his cheek, and neck, and nibble at his ear. Then Cas would turn in the chair, and stand up so he could kiss Dean fully. Sometimes they would talk for a few minutes, wrapped together like that before Cas would clear off the table while Dean started cooking. Other times the kiss would have more heat behind it than either of them could stand, and Dean would lead Cas back through the living room and little hallway to his bedroom so they could let the fire burn away unhindered.

He realized he’d stopped pacing and was simply smiling down at the kitchen table, lost in his memories of the past few days. Shit. Had he already fallen for Cas? Dean didn’t even really remember what it felt like to be in love, it had been so goddamn long since he’d had a relationship that had been anything much more than sex or basic companionship. But how he felt for Cas was so much more than that. He wanted to be the first thing Cas saw when he woke up each morning, the last thing he saw before they went to sleep at night. He wanted Cas to be there when he got home from work each day, and for Dean to cook for them both. Sometimes they’d maybe cook together. Sometimes they’d forget to eat dinner at all, too busy devouring each other, and would have to order pizza at 9 pm. He wanted to pick Cas up from the airport after he’d been on a long work trip, regardless if it was midnight or five in the morning, and drive him home. To his place in Austin, or back to Timpson. Dean didn’t care. He just wanted to be there for Cas. In whatever way Cas needed, or wanted, or would have Dean.

He sat down again and dropped his head hard to the solid wood. If he wasn’t already in love with Cas, it wouldn’t take a whole helluva lot for him to get there, that was for sure.

Dean wanted to let himself feel that. Have that life. With Cas. He wanted this marriage to be real. To be doing it because they wanted it, wanted to make it work, regardless of however it had come about.

The realization felt like a black hole, opening to swallow him up. Because Dean couldn’t tell Cas that. He knew only too well that Cas was far too good of a person to go through with a marriage that he knew he wasn’t really invested in if it would make Dean unhappy. Even if it meant losing his job. Dean was quite sure that Cas would feel like it was his duty to protect Dean’s feelings, even if it meant giving up his own hopes and dreams.

After all, Cas had already risked his job by letting Dean suck him off in an airplane bathroom because he’d felt sorry for Dean. All Cas had ever done was try to be kind, and look where it had gotten him: stuck in a desperate situation where he was now being forced into a fake marriage, with a sorry excuse for a guy he wasn’t all that into, who now wanted him to be lovey-dovey and play house. It was a lot to ask of Cas to save the career he loved. That he was good at. That Dean had fucked up for him, because that’s what Dean was good at. Fucking everything up.

No, Dean would just have to pretend that he was okay with it being a business arrangement. He could keep a handle on his emotions. Damn, denial was one of the things Dean did best. He’d talk himself out of being in love with Cas if it came to that. They had fun, they had great sex, and oh yeah, they’d got married to fool HR. No biggie.

He sat with his hands over the back of his head, still resting uncomfortably on the table.

Or maybe he should call Cas and tell him he didn’t have to go through with it. Say he’d tell the investigation that he was entirely to blame, that he’d forced Cas into the bathroom against his will. Dean would pay any fine they slap him with. Shit, he didn’t care if the airline banned him for life, not like he wanted to get on a plane again anyway. As long as he didn’t have to do time. Community service he could handle. Something to keep his mind off the beautiful man he couldn’t have, the fairytale life, marriage, that wasn’t going to happen might actually help him deal.

He was startled out his spiralling thoughts by the shrill tones of his cell phone ringing on that table beside his head. He lifted his head to look at the caller ID. Of course it was Cas. Like he’d fucking summoned him through thought alone.

“Hey, Babe, what’s up?” Dean let the endearment slip out with a nonchalance he didn’t feel.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’ tone was tight, like he was unhappy, or nervous. Or both.

Shit. This was it. He was calling to tell Dean it was all a mistake. He didn’t want to marry Dean, even for show. He wasn’t coming back. 

“I didn’t think it would be so difficult to be apart from you.”

Wait, what?

“Dean?” 

Dean realized he had been thinking rather than talking. “Um, yeah.” Good god, was that really the best he could do?

“I’ve been thinking, I’d like to ask Hannah, my sister, to be present for our marriage. If you are okay with it, of course.”

Cas wanted his family to witness their fake ceremony? “Sure, I guess.”

“We hadn’t really discussed what we would tell our families or friends. I don’t really care about what my parents or older brothers think,” Cas plowed on despite, or perhaps in spite of Dean’s lack of response, “we’re not close. But Hannah, Hannah is important to me, so I want to share it with her. I’d really like her to meet you.” 

“Okay.” Dean was still struggling to process what Cas was actually saying.

“Is there anyone you wanted to be present? If there was a small group of us, maybe it would be nice to have dinner somewhere afterwards. A little celebration.”

“Celebration?” Dean asked, stupidly. “I guess it would be nice to have Jo and Ellen there. They’re the closest thing to family I got close by. Too far to ask Mom to come, and Jess and Sammy are still in Spain, of course.”

Jo and Ellen would be able to mop him up and take him home when Cas decided to bail at the last minute. Ellen would know how much to let him drink before he became morose and Jo would distract him with tales of her hunting exploits. Yeah, they’d be a good choice.

“Dean, are you okay?” Now Cas sounded worried for a whole different reason, and Dean’s gut clenched.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know, Cas. Probably just nervous about tomorrow.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think it will be very straightforward, Dean. Much like with the clerk, only we go to the Justice of the Peace this time, to fill out the remaining paperwork and sign it.”

Sure that part was straightforward, Dean thought. It was the emotions that were complicated.

“Should probably go call Ellen, before it gets much later. Make sure she and Jo can make it. Should I make a dinner reservation? Although it’s kinda early to be eating. Not sure we’ll need one.” He could hear Cas shuffling at the other end of the connection.

“I trust your judgement, Dean.” 

Well, that made one of them, at least. Although Dean was pretty sure Cas’ trust was misplaced when it came to him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cas asked again.

“Yeah. Yes. Just tired. Not been sleeping that great, honestly. It’s been so hot, and then the fireworks last night” Dean admitted. Though he didn’t go so far as to tell him that it was because he suddenly found his bed far too large and empty without Cas to share it with.

“Same. I miss you.”

“Yeah. Same.” Why did Cas always have to be so kind and caring? Say all the right things. Dean had to end this call before he lost it completely. “See you tomorrow afternoon then, I guess.”

“No later than 4 pm. You are going to be able to leave work early, aren’t you?”

“It’s all set up. Taken Friday off too. Think Donna was actually quite pleased since I’d worked the holiday yesterday.”

“Oh yes, July 4th. I’ve sort of lost track of days and dates while I haven’t been working.”

Their anniversary would be July 6th. Maybe they should postpone til Friday so it could be 7/7. But this wasn’t going to be a real marriage, so why did it matter what the date of their damn anniversary was. Dean could feel his chest tighten. He just had to make sure Cas got his job back. He was clearly lost without his work. He would just bury his feelings and make sure he did what Cas needed. 

Even if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted for himself.

“You’ll be flying again before you know it, Cas.” He tried to sound cheerful, despite feeling anything but.

“I hope you’re right, Dean. I hope we’re doing the right thing. Doing enough.”

“Me too, Cas. Me too.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”


	20. Thursday, 4:00 P.M. (CST)

It was worse than having to get on a fucking plane. Dean thought he might actually be sick this time, and ducked out to the bathroom.

The bathroom was cool and blessedly empty, and Dean leant hard against one of the old porcelain sinks for support. He wasn’t sure if his head or his stomach was churning more right now. Both felt like they had hit the final spin cycle and were threatening to ring him dry. He leant forward, resting his head against the peeling mirror, closing his eyes and trying to absorb the cool of the glass.

What was he gonna do if Cas didn’t show up? 

Fuck. What was he gonna do if Cas _did_ show up?

He tried to take deep breaths but that seemed to make the dizziness worse. He could almost feel the beads of sweat breaking out on his skin, cold and prickling. Now the cold was making him shiver, and he gingerly pushed himself upright again. That was a mistake. The Dean reflected in the mirror looked horrible: ghostly pale, haggard, and grimacing. He only vaguely registered the feeling of too much saliva in his mouth before he was retching into the sink, bringing up his sorry excuse for lunch - a doughnut and two cups of coffee.

He ran the water and washed his mouth out several times before splashing the cold water on his face and neck. It left a wet ring around the collar of his work shirt, making it feel even more uncomfortable.

Maybe he could stay in here until the building closed, sneak out the window or something once everyone else had left. He’d never have to know whether Cas had shown up, or not. Could just go home and drink the bottle of Jack he’d got stashed under the sink in case of emergency.

Coz this definitely counted as an emergency.

His stomach turned over and he heaved into the sink again. Although now he more just retching than bringing anything up. Fuck, this usually only happened after he’d been drinking. He _wished_ he’d be drinking. Probably wouldn’t be freaking out quite so royally if he’d had a couple of shots to take the edge off. Why had he agreed to do this straight after work? Why had he agreed to do this at all?

He rinsed his mouth again, gargling a little to get the bitter taste out of his throat, and splashed more water his cheeks. His stomach felt a little better now but his head was still pounding and his knees felt as though they would buckle at any moment.

Dean sat down on the tiled floor, not giving a thought to what might be on it, something that would normally have sent him into a panic, though to a far lesser degree than he was currently experiencing. He rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes, taking another shot at the breathing exercises that generally helped him in these situations.

_These situations. Yeah right, Dean. Like you always find yourself about to get fake married to the man you wanna be real married to, sitting in a courthouse bathroom puking your guts out. Why did you have to go fall in love with him, Dean? Why?_

That was why. Why he was here. Why he was freaking out. Why he was ready to marry Cas at all, even though it was going to break his heart. 

He loved him. Fuck, he loved him so much.

And if he could give Cas a second shot at his career, then it would be worth it to see him happy. All he wanted to make Cas happy, and if this was how he got to do it, then he would do it.

He went back to taking deep breaths until he finally felt like he’d wrestled back some control of his galloping heart rate. It was still unpleasantly fast, but was now beating at a lively canter rather than a full out bolt. 

It was time to face the music.

Dean picked himself up and straightened his uniform a little, wishing he’d thought to change into regular clothes before leaving work. He still looked like shit, but he felt a whole lot worse, so everyone else would just have to deal.

He washed his hands and rinsed his mouth and face one last time, drying up on a paper towel before leaving the bathroom. He tried to focus on breathing and walking, breathing and walking, breathing and walking, until there he was, outside the Justice of the Peace’s office. He took one last long slow breath before pushing open the door and entering.

“Ah, excellent, Mister Winchester, I presume.” 

Dean heard the Justice talking, maybe nodded or spoke out loud in response, but suddenly the only thing that existed in the room was the man with the amazing blue eyes moving rapidly towards him, reaching out for him.

“Dean!” Cas reached him and took his hands, his look of joy turning to one concern. “Dean, what’s wrong. You look terrible. Are you okay?” He lifted one hand to stroke across Dean’s brow and down his cheek, resting it tenderly on his jaw.

“Yeah, fine.”

Cas raised his eyebrows and Dean found himself on the receiving end of a fierce _don’t give me any of that bullshit, Winchester_ glare.

“No. Cas–” 

Shit, where was he supposed to begin?

Cas pulled Dean into a tight hug, stroking his neck and back with gentle, grounding strokes. “Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s okay to feel freaked out.”

Dean could feel the burn of tears behind his eyes. “But what happens tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever? Do you just go back to living your life? In Austin, going on long flights away for work? Do we tell everyone it’s an open relationship? What happens after today, Cas? What happens next?” He buried his head into Cas shoulder, taking refuge in the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Oh Dean. Dean, no. Hey, look at me.” Cas pulled back a little and lifted Dean’s chin. “Is that what you want to happen?”

“Fuck, no! I want us to be together. Wake up together, go to bed together, live together. Cas, I wanna be married for real. Not because some lawyer told us it would save your career. But because I’m in love with you, and I want to try and make it work. I love you, Cas.” Dean knew he was making a complete fool of himself, but he couldn’t stop the flow of words any more than he could stop the flow of tears.

Cas kissed him. Pulled him so their bodies were flush and hard against one another, their mouths searching, sliding, lips and tongues conveying every emotion that, Dean suddenly knew for sure, they shared. He pulled back startled by the revelation.

“I want that too,” Cas told him, not loosening his grip in the slightest. “My place in Austin felt so unlike home. At first I thought it was just because I’d been gone for longer than usual. But then I realized it’s because something critical was missing.” He gently wiped the tears from Dean’s cheek. “You, Dean. You were missing. I don’t want to go back to living a life that you aren’t a very central part of. It doesn’t matter how we met, or how long we’ve known each other. I think I might have fallen for you when you told Gabriel to turn off that stupid iPad game, and just been falling deeper ever since that moment.” Cas’ too blue eyes glistened impossibly bright as he too began to tear up. “You have no idea how much I love you, Dean.”

“Oh, I think I do.” Dean was laughing and crying simultaneously, his nose red and running, no doubt looking ridiculous. It was through a blur of tears that he realized Cas had pulled away and was getting down on one knee. Really? Maybe he’d hit his head in the bathroom and was dreaming all this, because holy fuck, this was too perfect to be real.

Cas looked up at him, blue eyes shining brighter than the small band of silver he held in the little black box. “Dean Winchester, will you marry me, make a life with me, be my husband and love me as much as I do you?”

Dean didn’t hesitate, but dropped to his knees in front of Cas and kissed him by way of an answer. Kissed him until they had to breathe, and wipe their eyes, still crying and laughing. “Fuck yes!” He looked down at their hands joined between them, noticing again the black box. “Cas! You bought me a ring?”

“Actually I bought myself one too. Seemed like a sensible investment if we were going to do this properly.” He smiled brightly. “I hope it fits you.”

“Guess we should find out.”

That was when they both looked up to find the four other people in the room looking down at them with indulgent smiles.

“Er, Dean?” Cas began to stand up, helping Dean up after him.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, right.” He wiped his streaming face on his sleeve and turned to where Jo and Ellen were standing, ready to introduce them to Cas.

“We know who he is, Winchester, you idiot.” Jo shoved him hard, grinning. 

“You certainly did always have a flair for the dramatic, Dean.” Ellen handed him a Kleenex from her purse and pulled him into a quick hug. “But let’s keep proper introductions until after we’re done here, yeah, and not keep this poor Justice waiting any longer.”

He looked over to Cas, registering the woman standing next to him, no doubt his sister Hannah if her messy brown hair and bright blue eyes were any indication. She smiled warmly at Dean and nodded her approval of Ellen’s suggestion.

Dean and Cas joined hands and turned to face the Justice of the Peace who was sat at an elegant dark wood desk, smiling broadly.

She was a tiny woman with a mass of auburn curls spilling over her shoulders. Most striking was the fact that when she spoke, it was with a lilting Scottish accent.

“Good afternoon, boys. I’m Justice, McCloud, and I think we can forgo the other usual introductions and formalities after that rather touching episode, huh? Want to get you two lovebirds bound and outta here as soon as we can.” She nodded at them both. “I’ll still need t’see your paperwork and identification though.”

They handed over the documents and stood side by side in front of her.

“So, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester. I am required by Shelby County, in the State of Texas of the United States of America to confirm that you are both of age–?” She paused for a response.

“Yes.” Cas’ voice was deep and sure.

“Er, yes.” Dean was more croaky, his throat raw from the turmoil of emotions over the past half hour.

“Both of full mental capacity - although we’ve already established yer both a wee bit unhinged.” She winked at them, but they both answered “yes” to the question.

“And that you understand you are entering into a legal and binding union recognised by the County of Shelby, the State of Texas, the United States of America and all who abide by our law?”

Dean looked at Cas, who smiled back at him. “Yes,” they said together.

“Then I will need you to sign here, Castiel.” He did so. “And you right here, Dean.” Dean took the pen and added his name to the document. “Congratulations, Dean and Castiel. You are now bound in matrimony!” She threw her hands in the air with a dramatic flourish. “You can kiss again now, you big dummies.” She stage whispered to them.

They did, but with far more sweetness and restraint, more aware of their audience now.

They thanked Justice McCloud and apologised for running over their allotted time slot. “Och, never you mind. It’s so sweet to see a couple fellas so in love, you know.” She beamed. More quietly she added, “you know where to find me if it disna work out with your handsome angel over there,” to Dean as she shook his hand and winked at him, “but I hope you two make it work. I foresee a lot of potential in this relationship.”

~

“God damn, we can all see he’s pretty, but stop with the eye-fucking already, Winchester!” Jo swatted Dean none too gently on the arm to get his attention back.

Dean smiled adoringly at Cas before focussing back to Jo.

“Now, are you going to finish those fries, or can I have them?” She reached across to snag a chunky fry from his plate.

“No way, Harvelle. Not only do I need to replenish my stores from being so sick earlier, but I have a feeling I’m going to need a full tank of gas for later tonight.” He gave her a devilish grin.

“Ugh. I hate you, Dean. Really.”

“You know I’m adorable.”

“Honestly? You used to be kind of okay, but now, sickeningly in love? No, not so much.” Her ear to ear smile said otherwise, but Dean still played along, huffing and looking put out.

“Don’t tease him, Joanna Beth,” Ellen cut in. “Seriously, Dean, and you too Castiel,” she nodded to Cas who had been watching the scene with amusement, “you definitely haven’t done things in a conventional way, but it doesn’t matter how or why things happened the way they did, because you two are clearly so happy. Congratulations.” Ellen raised her half empty glass of beer. “To Dean and Castiel!”

Jo and Hannah follow suit, each lifting their glasses and clinking them to Ellen’s.

“Oh, we’re celebrating?! What’s the occasion?” The server smiled broadly at them, gathering up the empty plates.

“My brother and Dean here have just got married,” Hannah told him, her eyes sparkling in the soft lights of the brewery.

“Really? That’s so wonderful! You two make a very handsome couple.” He attempted to add Dean’s plate to his stack.

“Leave that one, please,” Jo quickly chirped, “coz if Dean ain’t gonna eat them, I for sure am.”

“Jo…,” Dean growled in warning.

“Would you like to see the dessert menu?” 

“Would we?” Cas asked them all.

“Hell yes, we would,” Dean said with a mouth full of the last of his fries, “pie here’s incredible.”

Cas shook his head indulgently at Dean and turned back to the server. “Yes, thank you, er, Jack. We would like to see the dessert menu, and specifically what today’s pie is.”

“Let me run to the kitchen with these, and I’ll be right back.”

Hannah sipped her glass of red wine contentedly. “Your favorite dessert is pie, Dean?”

“Doesn’t need to be dessert. I’ll quite happily eat savory pies too.”

“When Castiel was about, hmmm, maybe twelve or thirteen, he promised to make me a cake for my birthday one year. Mother, being Mother, wanted nothing to do with anything as hands-on as baking, and Dad was probably deployed at the time, and Castiel wasn’t really allowed to use the oven. However, he had made a promise and Castiel keeps his promises, as you probably know Dean. So, he went to the library and probably read every book there was to read on desserts before he discovered that he could make a pie that didn’t need baking.”

“Hannah…” Cas protested, blushing, “they don’t need to hear this story.”

“Er, yes we do. If you have secret pie making skills, I definitely wanna know about them.” Dean kissed his cheek affectionately.

Hannah rolled her eyes, in almost exactly the same way that Cas did, Dean noted, and continued. “He came home with a big box of Graham crackers, a couple of boxes of pudding mix, a can of instant whipped cream, and one of those little squeezy lime bottles–”

“Cas! You made her key lime pie!?” Dean turned excitedly to his husband. Nope, that wasn’t going to get old any time soon.

“I did,” Cas admitted, “and Mother was furious. She accused me of using the oven, which I, of course, had not.”

“I think she might even have grounded you,” Hannah added.

“She probably did. I was always grounded for something or other when I was a teenager.”

“But I loved my “cake”,” Hannah made the quotation marks with her fingers, just like Cas did, “it was delicious. And that is why you are the best big brother in the world, Castiel.” Her smile was full of love and respect. “I’m so happy that you have found someone to take care of you as well as you have taken care of me.”

Jack the server chose that moment to reappear, baring a huge green pie, decorated with candles, dots of whipped cream, and baring the message “Congrats! Dean and Cas. ♡”

“Hannah!” Cas turned to look at his sister. 

She smiled back. “I may have read the dessert menu earlier.”

“And decorating it was SO much fun. I did it myself.” Jack the server beamed proudly as he set the pie down on the table between Dean and Cas.

Neither one was paying attention to the server but rather grinning stupidly at the sight of their names together in piped chocolate frosting.

“You should probably blow the candles out before any more wax dips.” Jo elbowed Dean in the ribs.

He looked at Cas in question. “Ready?”

“Always.”

~

“I really like your sister.”

“You’re just saying that because she organized the pie.”

“Cas!” Dean bumped his shoulder against Cas’, who, despite his better judgement regarding seat belt safety, had moved across to the middle of the Impala’s front bench so that he could be squashed up against Dean. “Seriously, you two have so many of the same mannerisms, it’s kinda hilarious.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you both seemed to get on so well. She is important to me, and it meant a lot for her to be here today.” He squeezed Dean’s knee affectionately. “Ellen and Jo are terrifying.”

Dean laughed loudly into the darkness of the car’s interior. “Aren’t they? But you know they like you?”

“Yes. I definitely felt accepted by them, despite Jo warning me that she would end me if I decided to break your heart.”

“She means it too,” Dean assured him.

“I’m quite sure she does.”

“You’re not scared?”

“Not in the slightest.” 

Dean turned his head for a moment to look at Cas inquiringly.

Cas lent to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder, speaking quietly with his lips so close to Dean’s ear. “Because I promise to never, ever break your heart.”

Dean pulled the Impala smartly into the turnout and stopped rather abruptly in a shower of dust and gravel.

“Dean?” Cas had pulled away from him, clearly worried.

Dean pulled him close and kissed him hungrily. “Fuck, Cas. I love you so much.” His voice was gruff with emotion when he spoke between kisses. “Couldn’t wait until we were home.” Cas’ nipped at his bottom lip before placing his mouth fully over Dean’s again. “Drive me crazy.”

“Stop–” Cas was relentless with his kisses. “Talking–” He had unbuckled them both and was dragging Dean into his lap, despite the steering wheel making it inordinately difficult. “Dean.” He growled frustrated and pushed Dean away. “In the back.”

Dean didn’t hesitate to open his door and climb awkwardly out of the car, his underwear suddenly uncomfortably tight. He slammed the front door shut, while simultaneously opening the back door and sliding in to find Cas already there, slamming into him and pinning him flat to the backseat. “Dean. Dean. Dean.” Cas chanted his name between kisses. There wasn’t much space for two large men, despite the size of the Impala’s back bench, so it seemed logical to not worry about closing the doors and limiting their space further.

Cas was working on getting the buckle of Dean’s khaki’s open, while trying not to bang his head against the car’s roof. Dean had propped himself up on his elbows so he could reach Cas’ neck with his mouth and was setting about sucking wet kisses down the length of Cas’ jugular. Dean could feel the moans of pleasure escaping from Cas as vibrations on his own lips as he nipped at Cas’ throat.

Dean’s pants and underwear were being pushed down now, Cas using one hand for the task while he undid his own fly with the other, the denim of his jeans rubbing against Dean’s exposed dick as he did so. Dean thrust up chasing the friction but found himself pushed back down on the bench as Cas ground their hips together. The bare skin on skin felt incredible and not nearly enough.

Cas kissed Dean again, deep and messy, his tongue warring with Dean’s between him pausing the assault to suck on Dean’s bottom lip, only to begin all over again. Beneath him, Deam squirmed and writhed, trying to thrust up and desperately seeking more friction. Cas reached one hand behind them, trying to get far enough to cup Dean’s balls, but failing. “Need you to turn over.” His voice was deep and husky and sent a thrill of anticipation through Dean. Cas shifted his weight off Dean so that he could stretch out and flip onto his belly, but as soon as Dean was face down, Cas was back over him, sliding his hands up and under Dean’s shirt and kissing down his tail bone.

“Cas. I need–”

“I’ve got you, Dean.” 

Dean felt Cas slide his pants and underwear down past his knees so that he was able to bend one slightly and create some space between his legs.

“Mmmm, Dean, so inviting.” Cas immediately reached between his legs to play with his balls and the base of his cock, trapped between his belly and the seat. There wasn’t much space for Cas to maneuver so he focussed on massaging what he could reach, stroking back and forth from the base of Dean’s erection, across his perineum to his hole. 

It felt divine, but Dean was already too worked up to be satisfied by teasing massages. He lifted his ass up, trying to push back against Cas touches. He was rewarded by Cas reaching around his hip to stroke his cock with one hand while he continued to caress Dean’s ass with the other. 

“Hang on a second.” Cas moved away momentarily, but leaving one hand rested on Dean’s hip so as not to break their connection.

Dean heard the click of the glovebox opening and Cas rummaging through it. He lifted his head off the bench to try and turn and look, but Cas was already back, a bottle of Astroglide in his free hand. “How did–?”

“You were kind enough to loan me the car, so I was kind enough to stock her in case of emergency.” 

Cas kissed nipped at his bare butt and Dean heard the click of the cap being flipped open. He lifted his hips in anticipation, and sure enough felt warm hands spreading his cheeks before Cas’ slick finger began circling his hole.

“Can you reach your cock, Dean? Stroke yourself for me, I want you to feel good.”

“Mmmm. So good, Cas. So good.” Dean wriggled his hips higher so he could tuck his hand under and take hold of his erection. He worked it languidly, restricted as he was in his current position, paying far more attention to the feel of Cas’ fingertip beginning to gently work the muscles at his hole. Cas must have added a second finger because he was beginning to lose track of specifics amidst the wash of sensation.

Cas leant low over him, rubbing his face against Dean’s back, making him wish there weren’t two layers of fabric between his skin and that wonderfully stubbled cheek. Cas seemed to read his thoughts and moved higher so that his chin scraped the back of Dean’s neck.

“You are everything I want, Dean Winchester, everything I need,” Cas whispered into his hairline.

Dean strained to turn his head enough so that they could kiss briefly, before his neck protested and he was forced to lie his cheek back on the pale leather upholstery. He was feeling ridiculously blissed out, the limited movements of his hand able to provide just enough friction for his cock to stave off frustration, and Cas’ fingers making him feel deliciously full.

“I don’t think we can make this work in the car.”

“Huh?” 

“Can you pull that door closed?” Cas asked mysteriously.

“Sure.” Dean reached out and grabbed the handle, pulling the passenger door closed with a thud. “Why?”

Cas was backing out of the car, his erection bobbing with his pants undone and pushed down his hips, but he was beckoning for Dean to follow. Dean sat up and let Cas pull him to his feet before pinning him against the cool smooth metal of the Impala and kissing him frantically.

“Couldn’t reach you in there.” Cas smoothed a hand tenderly over his temple, tracing the line of his hair to behind his ear before pulling Dean back into another searing kiss. The hand not in Dean’s hair was roaming down the exposed skin of his lower back and between his ass cheeks to slip into his – now wonderfully loose – hole. 

“Can I fuck you, Dean?” Cas’ voice was so deep and raspy when he was aroused, it made Dean tremble with lust.

“Please.” He had barely managed to speak before Cas was turning him and pressing him forward to bend over Baby’s trunk. Was Cas going to–? He turned slightly and saw Cas ripping open a condom packet. Oh god, he was. Dean trembled with anticipation, his heart pounding as he let the car take his full weight, relaxing into the position and readying himself for Cas.

He felt Cas’ hands grip his hips as he moved in close between Dean’s legs, spreading them as far as possible with Dean’s pants pooled at his ankles. Cas rubbed his thumbs over Dean’s hip bones and lined himself up– Dean could feel the blunt tip of Cas erection pushing at his hole. He let his hips be lifted as Cas pushed in, first just the head, and then little by little until Dean felt the brush of pubic hair against his ass. He felt deliciously full and would have been happy to remain like that, aware of nothing but the feel of Cas occupying him inside and out, until Cas began to move. 

The slide stole all of Dean’s attention, the sensations the action created overwhelming him. Pleasure was building with every slow thrust that Cas made and Dean shifted against the car’s smooth paintwork trying to stimulate his cock.

Cas shifted his angle so that with the next thrust Dean felt a jolt of pleasure hit him as Cas hit his prostate. The shift lifted his hips enough so that his dick slid across a ridge of aluminum running along the side of the Impala, and Dean shamelessly worked himself on it as Cas pushed into him again and again. It was incredible. Dean felt like he was a star ready to go supernova, he couldn’t sustain this level of sensation without combusting.

“So perfect, Dean. Here, spread out over your beautiful car with the stars reflected beneath you. So perfect.” 

Cas’ husky praise was all he needed to tumble over the precipice.

“Nnnnnnggghhhh! Aaaah, Castiel!” he bellowed as he came hot and hard over the cool metal. Dean lost himself to the riot of pleasure that was consuming him, letting it envelop every inch of him, branding him with a magic that was all Cas. His hips bucked with the waves of orgasm hitting him, his ass spasming tight around Cas’ cock, it’s movement sending yet more tremors of pleasure through him as he felt Cas begin to stutter, gripping Dean’s hips even tighter and falling forward over his back as he too lost himself in climax.

“Dean! Dean, Dean, Dean,” he chanted in time with his shallow thrusts. His hands moved up Dean’s back to hug him in close, both of them panting into the dark. “Dean,” Cas said again, softly this time, lifting him up and turning him so that they were face to face. “I love you, Dean Winchester.” Cas cradled Dean’s head as he bent to kiss him tenderly before pulling back to gaze at him. 

Dean looked up into Cas’ eyes, seeing the truth of the words in them. He smiled contentedly up at his husband, outlined by a summer sky filled with stars.

“Considering how we got together, it seems kinda fitting that our wedding night is on the side of a deserted road against a car.” Dean’s joy bubbled into laughter and he pulled Cas down for another kiss. 

“I love you too, Castiel Novak. So very, very much.”


	21. Two months later.

“We have extensively investigated and reviewed your case, Mister Novak, given the gravity of the allegation. Having sexual relations, consensual or otherwise, is not appropriate behavior on an airplane. When taking into consideration the additional fact that you were in service at the time, this makes the behavior all the more condemnable.”

Castiel tried hard not to squirm under the scrutinizing gaze of the head of human resources. She was, in fairness, an incredibly well respected and intelligent woman, but right now she was making him feel like a delinquent child.

“Your actions on the afternoon of June twentieth were inexcusable, and will not be without reprimand.”

Fuck. That’s what Dean would say, and at this moment Castiel couldn’t think of any more appropriate expression. This was, no doubt, where he would be asked to leave quietly with the bribe of a decent reference. He’d have to start over again with a new airline. It wasn’t the worst thing imaginable, Castiel conceded. His schedule would probably be horrid for the first year or so, which would mean he’d have to spend more time away from Dean than he’d like to, but he wouldn’t be unemployed. And he would still get to fly.

It was the one thing he just couldn’t convey to Dean in a way that made sense to him– the way it made him feel to be up in the air, guiding his passengers through the flight to their destination– to their vacations, reunions, work trips, schools, families. He lived vicariously through every one of them. 

Or had.

Until one of them had reached out to him and pulled him into their life. Shared it with him. Let Castiel live the excitement of the destination along with him. 

Dean.

Castiel would gladly take any punishment dished out, because getting to be with Dean – be married to Dean! – made anything endurable.

Wait, what was being said? Castiel realized that he’d zoned out and missed part of the lecture he was receiving.

“...understandable due to the unique situation. Congratulations are due to you and Mister Winchester, I believe.”

What? Castiel was thrown by the pleasantry but had managed to retain enough of his wits to smile appreciatively.

“Because of this circumstance, and the fact that you have effectively served your suspension over the past sixty-two days, we would like to propose that this matter is final. You will agree, in writing, to keep the details of the event and investigation private, and you will be reinstated to immediate effect.”

He had no idea what they were talking about. The matter was final? Reinstated?

“I still have my job?” He needed additional confirmation.

“Yes, Mister Novak. By all accounts, you are an exemplary employee, who is well-liked by staff and passengers alike. We’d be rather rash to let you go.”

“Even though…”

“Even though you got rather foolishly carried away by the surprise of your partner proposing to you? Yes, Mister Novak. You still have your job, and we expect you to maintain the exceptional customer service and impeccable high standard that you demonstrated prior to your engagement.” She smiled smugly at him.

“I… I… Thank you! I can’t believe it. I get to have it all!” He reached across the mahogany desk and shook the HR manager’s hand vigorously. “I need to tell Dean.”

“I just need your signature on the non-disclosure paperwork that we discussed, you are free to do so.” She slid over a dense looking document.

“Do I need to have my lawyer read this before I sign?” Castiel asked.

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps. But I can’t let you leave, or reinstate you until it is signed, so I would suggest emailing a copy to your lawyer who can pick it apart and contest anything they find fault with after the fact.”

“Fair enough. Let’s do this.” 

She indicated the places he was to print, initial and sign throughout the text, and then it was done, and she was tidying the papers away.

“Well, Mister Novak. I’m not going to say that I condone your actions, but I do have to confess that your story was certainly compelling. You must be a very lucky man.”

He smiled dreamily, envisioning exactly how lucky he was. “You have no idea.”

They both stood and shook hands again before Castiel was shown to the door. As it opened the man waiting outside leapt up to meet him.

“Cas! You took forever. Oh my god, what did they say?”

“Your husband, I presume?” The HR manager smiled knowingly at Dean, who seemed to only now be registering that Castiel hadn’t reappeared alone.

“Yes, this is Dean. Dean this is Virgin America’s head of Human Resources, Ms.–” Castiel was cut off by the woman at his side leaning past him to shake Dean’s hand.

“You can call me Jody, Mr. Winchester,” she said with a smirk, “but I would appreciate not needing to see either yourself or your husband back in my offices for a very long time.”

Dean shot him a look of confusion and concern, but Castiel nodded reassuringly at him.

“Er, pleased to meet you, Jodie,” Dean said politely, still not looking all that happy.

“Now you two run along, and for god sake behave yourselves.” She cocked her head to one side in consideration. “At least in public.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Mills, we– er, I– will.” Castiel shook her hand again before she smiled and retreated back inside her office.

Castiel turned taking Dean’s hands in his.

“So? Goddamit, Cas. Don’t leave me hanging like this, wha’d she say?”

“As long as I promise not to sell our story or attempt to pursue social media fame, I’ve served my suspension and may return to work as soon as scheduling allows.” Castiel could feel himself beaming as he watched the relief flood Dean’s face.

“Cas, that’s amazing! Really? No fine, no demotion, nothing else?”

“No. Ms. Mills made it very clear that they will be keeping very close tabs on my conduct from here on, but based on my prior record, and the accounts provided by you and my colleagues, they were happy to keep me on.” 

Dean flung his arms around Castiel’s waist, lifting him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Dean! Put me down, Dean.” Dean did, but kept Castiel wrapped protectively in his arms. It was usually his favorite place to be, but Castiel was very aware that they were still outside the office of the head of HR. “Can we leave, please? I’ll tell you all the details once were on our way to the hotel.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just such a relief, you know. You’ve been so chilled about the whole thing, but I know how much your job means to you. I just want you to be happy, Cas.” 

Castiel paused to look at the man beside him, the man who meant everything to him, and smiled. “You know, Dean, I would have been happy either way. Even if I’d lost a job I loved, I gained a man I love a whole lot more.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “Fuck, Cas. You just can’t say shit like that in public. That’s what got us into this whole mess to start with.”

“I think, Dean Winchester, that I should absolutely say “shit” like that in public, because it tends to get me exactly what I want.”

“And what might that be, Castiel Novak?”

He leaned in close so that Dean could feel the hot low whisper down his neck when Castiel answered. “You legs wrapped around my waist, hot, sweaty and begging to come as I push into that beautiful tight ass of yours over and over again.”

Dean swallowed hard enough for Castiel to see the bob of his Adam’s Apple. Being able to make Dean blush and stutter was something he enjoyed doing just a little too much. He was so good natured about being teased, and Dean never really seemed to mind when Castiel eventually made good on his promises. The wait was part of the fun.

“But I suppose we should probably wait until after our party, and we did just promise to be good.” He winked at Dean and started moving down the corridor. “Come on, Dean. We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Behind him he could hear fabric rustling, as Dean no doubt adjusted his suit pants. Dean looked decidedly hot and bothered when he finally caught up. It was a look that Castiel enjoyed very much.

“We can still get a divorce, you know, Cas. Now that the investigation is over, there’s nothing that says we need to stay married.”

Was that so? 

Castiel whirled on Dean, summarily backing him into the nearest concrete wall, a little harder than he’d intended. Dean’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, I think there are plenty of things that say we need to stay married, husband of mine. Your dick certainly seems to think so.” Castiel ground his hips into Dean’s, making him groan. He let his head fall forward to rest on Cas’s shoulder. 

“I love you, Dean,” he purred against Dean’s cheek, “my strong, noble, handsome husband.” This was definitely not what he should be doing in the corridor of head office, but right now he needed Dean to understand.

He ran the tip of his nose across Dean’s cheekbone and kissed his jaw. “You bring so much joy to my life, make me want to live more fully. You make my mornings sweeter, my days brighter,” he couldn’t help the rumble of laughter that escaped before he finished, “my nights a whole lot more sweaty. I know you’re not serious, but please, please don’t even joke about us not being together. I never regretted us getting together in the way we did, and I don’t regret us getting married the way we did either. The only thing that would break my heart would be for you to not want forever as much as I do.”

Dean raised his head from where he’d nestled it in the crook of Castiel’s neck, and looked at him through tear filled eyes. “Oh, Sweetheart. I need you. I’m lost without you. You have no idea how much I want forever.” 

Castiel knew exactly how much Dean wanted forever. He wanted it too. 

He let Dean wipe his eyes with the back of his hands before he moved in to kiss him. He tried to keep it sweet, just letting the tip of his tongue sneaking out to wet Dean’s bottom lip, and not lose himself in Dean like he usually did. They were still in a public space, after all.

He moved back to let Dean away from the wall but didn’t let go of the hand he was holding. “I think we should get to the party. We are going to be very late.”

“You know everyone expects it, Cas. They’ll all assume we’ve stopped to have sex on route anyway, so who are we to disappoint?” Dean gave him a cocky grin. 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “As much as I hate to deny you anything, I also want to get on with declaring my love for you in front of all our friends and family.” He gave Dean a hungry look. “Plus the quicker we get to the party, the quicker we can go home so that I can really seduce you.”

“You realize I’m going to forget my vows picturing what you’ll do to me once we’re home.” Dean pouted at him. 

“I’m sure you’ll think of something appropriate to say to me.” Castiel grinned wickedly at him. “Plus, Dean Winchester, I love to make you sweat.”


End file.
